Instinctual
by BreakItDwn
Summary: M-21 battles his inner wolf and Muzaka is coerced into helping him before he completely loses control. (M-21/Muzaka a shameless heat!fic as I sin to win)
1. The fire that blazes

There was a coil within him, taut and quivering for that tantalizing release. Wait...release? What was it that wanted to break free from those cautious shackles? He honestly didn't know. But he was certainly sure of one thing; that beast, unknown as it may be, should never be allowed out of its cage. HE should never be allowed out of that cage of his own creation.

Sun barreled down atop the relatively empty black top, unrelenting in its suffocating caress. M-21 grasped halfheartedly at his collar, unconsciously loosening his tie in an effort to cool down. Tao and Takeo were faring little better beneath the summer heat, Tao having resigned himself to pocketing his own tie and undoing the topmost buttons of his suit. Takeo however, diligently wore his own stifling clothing as directed despite the amount of discomfort it caused the sniper.

"We should seriously ask boss to get us some lighter uniforms" Tao drawled, bringing an ice cold can of soda to rest against his forehead. "At this rate the sun is going to kill us before the union does."

Both of Taos comrades face palmed at that, choosing not to respond and let the hacker rant about the weather to his content. It really was futile to stop Tao once he set his mind to something, no matter how strange his requests and plans ended up being. Especially when he crafted up ludicrous ideas to ask Frankenstien for new uniforms in his audacious, Tao-like manner.

M-21, despite the cheer and familial happiness that his comrades filled him with, felt completely worn out. On edge to say the least.

Beneath his skin, fury and something he couldn't quite place raged bright embers that roared through his veins, burning him from the inside out. It shrieked viscous curses at his family from within the confines of his mind. A chorus of horrors that only he could listen to.

Arguing was a moot point when in regards to the beast inside, it had no sense of anything beyond its primal instincts. It craved blood. No...not blood exactly. It craved a battle, the rush of combat between prey and predator. And it most certainly refused to be prey.

"Oi, M-21 were you listening?"

Jolted by the sudden shock of a hand resting on his shoulder, M-21 leapt backwards, a growl already finding itself ripping its way from his throat complete with a snarl marring his lips.

'Enemy'

'Fight'

'DO NOT LOOSE'

What brought him back to reality was not a sound or action of any sort, it was the lack thereof. Silence reined over the deserted school yard, and to M-21 it was louder than anything else could ever be.

He came to with his comrades mearly a few feet away, concern shining bright in their eyes while he gradually untensed his muscles.

When had his hands started to quake exactly?

"M, are you alright?" Tao asked. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Shakily M-21 snorted, looking away in mock offense. "As if you could ever scare me."

"Ehhhh? I could always show the kids that one picture of you sleeping all cute and stuff. That'd be scary right?"

"You wouldn't...Tao you wouldn't dare..."

The playful and almost manic grin on the hackers face assured him that the man would.

OoOo

The next incident came while M-21 was alone with Frankenstein and Rai, carefully sipping at the tea sloshing around in his cup and cherishing the tranquil quiet that sung through the otherwise empty house. Everyone else had retired for the night and though M-21 wished that he too could hole up in his room and experience that blessed blank space unconsciousness wrought, he found himself far too keyed up to do so. The restlessness manifesting though the constant, nervous 'tap tap' of his bare foot against chilled tile.

At first, M-21 was so caught up in his tumultuous thoughts that he didn't even register the fact he was incessantly tapping his leg. It wasn't until he felt the questioning stares off the rooms other two occupants that he realized what was happening.

"Are you alright M-21?" Frankensteins eyes, so usually filled to the brim with that uncanny amount of confidence of his, now looked...

Cautious?

No, no definitely not cautious, concerned. Frankenstein was concerned for him.

Was he really so worn from his inner battles with his beast that it showed that apparently on his face? After another glance at Frankenstein and Rai he concluded that yes, it definitely was.

Unaffected by the werewolfs silence, Frankenstein asked again, his voice more gentle this time.

Maybe it was foolish to put trust into others, even ones such as this pair, but M-21 wanted so badly to tell them everything. To pour out his heart and lift the burden his own personal war had created. But his instincts screamed at him, shouted their accusations and intentions to people who couldn't hear it's crys.

He trusted them, these two men who took him in, rescued him from the rubble of the past and helped him build anew.

He trusted them, but the beast didnt.

A soft, heartless smile found its way across his scarred lips and he tried to keep the bitterness, the powerlessness, out of his voice.

"I'm fine, sorry it was just a really stressful day." He gently placed his cup on an empty coaster and rose. "I think I'll head in now, night."

He intentionally ignored the worried looks that followed him out.

OoOo

It was beginning to get so much harder to control his basic instincts, and after weeks of this endless push and pull inside him, he began to wonder who was really caged in this situation. He pulled as far away from his friends, his family, as his heart would allow. On the surface, he was the same man he always was. Cocky, aloof and sarcastic to a tee.

But to those who knew M-21, who bled with M-21 and faced death head on with him, he was quickly becoming a stranger. He had always been rugged like the jagged end of broken glass, but now there was no glass to begin with. What were once loaded smiles and caring barbs had turned into a gaping chasm that was becoming deeper by the day.

Tao and Takeo, despite the futility of their challenge, continually tried to engage M-21 through any means necessary. But the werewolf just pulled further and further away. They would and did not give up however. They would fight for their comrade back to their dying breath.

Seira took to cooking his favorite foods wherever possible, trying to coax him to meals with a gentle hand and a kind, muted smile. Yuna had once told her they way to a mans heart was through his stomach. Seira didn't much understand, as she was certain the heart and intestines were in completely different areas of the body, but she still attempted.

Regis took the more brazen route, him being just as blunt, if not more so, then M-21. At first, he tried to goad his friend into sparring with him, or even making an effort to piss him off. Anything to break that mask M-21 plastered on. He would never admit it, but with every failed attempt to engage, Regis became more and more worried. He felt so...powerless.

He'd do anything to help M-21, but it seemed the man didn't want any help.

Little did M-21 know however, throughout his reluctance to reach for the assistance and companionship offered, Rai and Frankenstein were finished with leaving him to his own devices. They didn't want to see their friend suffer in solitude, and so it was that they decided to seek consultation from someone with far more knowledge on werewolves than themselves.

The werewolf king himself.

OoOo

Muzaka stood with a resoluteness and confidence he was known to wield like an extra set of claws, giving the large house an appreciative look(human architecture had seriously improved in those eight hundred and twenty years of his slumber) before rapping his knuckles as softly as he could manage against the surprisingly thin wood. It really wouldn't do to break Frankensteins door. The peacock already hated him enough, thank you very much.

Within the confines of the house, Muzaka could sense two familiar energies. One coursing with dark miasma that managed to spill over its owners iron clad control and the other barely a whisper. One that, though soft, swept through flower filled fields to spread the smell of spring to the land.

Ah yes, very little had changed it seemed.

The door opened to reveal Frankenstien, wearing the same damn suit he always wore and with that look in his eye that made it seem as if he was deconstructing every plausible way in which to take him down.

"Please, come in." He said, walking back towards the couch where Raizel sat and expecting him to follow.

Muzaka flashed his old friend a mischievous grin and stepped inside. Only to have Frankenstein glare daggers at him, his aura radiating murderous intent.

"What'd I do this time?"

"Your shoes."

"What?"

"You are tracking dirt into my household. Take off your shoes and put on the slippers near the door."

Oh. Yeah, he forgot how anal Frankenstein could be about having everything completely sterile.

"Ahhhhh...sorry" He really wasn't sorry in the least, but the stupid peacock didn't need to know that. "Better?"

"Indeed."

Muzaka sauntered towards the empty couch, unceremoniously plopping himself down onto the cushion. Raizel, who sat directly across from him, was as unwaveringly elegant as ever, making the otherwise pedestrian seat look like a throne. Muzaka sprawled himself across the empty couch, creating a throne of his own making. They were both beings of absolute power and it showed.

"So what is it that you had to have Frankenstein call me? Are you two finally eloping?"

Raizel looked completely unaffected by the suggestive remark, Frankenstein however seemed to exude even more distaste and vitriol than Muzaka thought was possible. That man always did manage to surprise him.

"It is our companion." Raizel spoke, raising the miniature cup to his lips in a fluid motion. "He is...unwell."

"Eh? What does that have to do with me?"

This time Frankenstein spoke. "Because he's a werewolf and I'm certain it a biological issue more than a psychological one.

Muzaka relaxed further into his seat, damn this couch was comfortable. "I see. What's the signs he's been exhibiting then? I could probably tell you what's happening based on that, but it would also be a good idea to check him in person. Just in case."

Frankenstein nodded in agreement. It seemed his scientific side was trumping over his utter distaste for Muzaka. Good, it was easier to get thing done when he was like that. And especially if it regarded a werewolf, he was after all the former werewolf lord. It was his duty to protect his kind by any means necessary.

"He has been receding from us for the past few weeks. At first it started out with bursts of anger occurring at random, especially in regards to whenever there was physical contact. That seemed to be the primary trigger."

Frankenstein heaved a heavy sigh, it was brief, but it painted a fairly detailed picture for Muzaka. Frankenstein was worried. Terribly. And considering it was Raizel who contacted him, it was safe to assume he was too.

"It seemed he realized this too and before I could intervene he completely withdrew. He mostly runs away in the evenings, thinking that we aren't aware of his nightly excursions. We've been trying everything to get him to engage but anything we do seems to push him further away." Frankenstein pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "If I had to give my opinion, it seems he's afraid. More than likely of himself. But whatever he's suppressing is beginning to take its toll on him. I'm worried that-"

"If he doesn't fix whatever's going on that he'll completely lose control." Muzaka summed up, his gaze knowing.

"Precisely, hence why we reached out to you. I don't have much data on werewolves and Master has had very limited reactions with your kind, so I figured you could assist us."

Silence settled over the room like a blanket, Muzaka and Frankenstein stared at one another for a time span that seemed to stretch with every passing second. Muzaka, surprisingly, was the first to look away, his mind sorting through the facts presented to him with a single minded fervor.

He knew their friend was part human, remembered the kid who, despite not being a full wolf, was still able to transform. That in itself should've been impossible, but there it was. In Muzakas mind, though he bore that human taint he vowed to destroy, the pup had earned his respect.

Especially considering he had to deal with Frankenstein on a daily basis. Muzaka sincerely respected anyone that could do that.

His mind whirred, cogs gradually turning and placing together a picture that shocked the former werewolf lord.

This kid was a human...or half human. Therefore what he suspected should have been considered absolutely ludicrous and rejected without a second thought.

But, he had seen the werewolf with his own two eyes. It seemed like the kid- no, man, was an impossibility in and of himself. So that meant...

Muzakas brows raised in shock as the answer rushed through his head.

"Ah, I think I know what's going on with your friend."

Frankenstein gave an impatient wave of his hand, motioning for Muzaka to continue.

"Well I thought it wasn't possible, considering he's half human and all. But apparently it is." He thoughtfully rested his chin atop his hands. "Basically your pup is turning into a full blown wolf."

Again silence reigned. This time incredulous and disbelieving.

Muzaka let the information he had unloaded sink in, watching as Frankinsteins face morphed from denial to anger at the werewolf lord for saying something so stupid to contemplation and then finally, understanding. He couldn't blame Frankenstein really, it was quite a lot to swallow all at once.

"I see. But that still doesn't necessarily explain why he's withdrawn so far from us."

"That's probably due to the fact that he's not part of a werewolf pack. With young ones who make the transition into adulthood, there's usually a pack leader that keeps them in line and assures that said wolf has someone to handle the more carnal aspects of it. They play matchmaker essentially."

Muzaka tapped a finger against his lips, considering how to properly word what he was about to say. "Your friend is, ah... Well I guess you could say he's going into heat. Since he's maturing now is the time that breeding instincts are developed. From what you've told me he has absolutely no clue what's going on. So to keep himself in check he's been distancing himself, which is pretty smart actually considering prolonged exposure to that instinctual part can cause a werewolf to lash out and attack practically anything that moves."

Throughout Muzakas speech, Frankenstein recalled the little bit he knew about werewolves, such data being from his younger, more desperate days of searching for power. He knew their physiology quite well, but that was only in regards to full blown adult werewolves. There were quite a few scientists at the time who experimented on the younger wolves, but Frankenstein refused to touch that vein of science with even a ten foot pole made completely of his darkspear.

Children were children, no matter the species.

"I see. So how should we proceed from here on then?"

"Well, considering how long he's been holding out, there's really not much time until

he completely loses it. I'm honestly surprised he's managed to refrain from his instincts as longs as he has."

Frankenstein winced, a sense of bitterness threading through his heart. So there was truly nothing they could do for M-21. But Muzaka-Frankenstein shot upwards as the epiphany smacked him upside the head with the proverbial bat. His gaze considered Muzaka, regarding him as if he were simply another experiment.

Which wasn't too far off, considering what he was about to request.

"Ehhhh? What's with that look?"

"You said M-21 needed a pack leader, yes?"

"Yea..."

"Then why don't you take that role?"

Muzaka completely stilled, disbelief rushing through him and pouring out into his aura. Frankenstein seriously had no clue what he was asking Muzaka to do, had no understanding of the severity of what that would mean. A retort was fresh on his tongue when a sudden thought occurred.

If M-21 didn't have a pack leader, or even someone appointed to mark him, he was essentially free game for whatever werewolf happened to be around. Sudden images of packless, markless weres flitted through his mind.

He'd seen the horrors that resulted in the wrong people finding a werewolf in that state. Limp corpses decorated with dirt, as thick as a second skin, blood and all forms of bodily fluids. Young weres subjected to a horrific fate, simply because there was no one to protect them.

Something inexplicably fierce flared in Muzakas chest.

Though he knew in his heart he had failed his own pack, that he didn't deserve the right to protect anyone, he couldn't let the possibility of this wolf faring the same fate of so many of those he hadn't been able to help.

Muzaka snapped out of his contemplative state to find Raizel, crimson gaze pleading and (he never thought he would ever use this word in conjunction with his friend) desperate, staring at him.

Well shit. That definitely decided it then.

OoOo

It was getting far harder than was comfortable to remain in control of the beast within, to maintain those chains that prevented it from completely breaching the surface. Feelings roared tidal waves through M-21's mind, and if he had to be honest, he was getting so tired of fighting it. The will that had once been so resolute, dimming to a wavering flame beneath the relentless assault of urges.

His body was an inferno, M-21 had to check quite often that he wasn't already set ablaze, and there was no way to quell that scorching fire. He had never experienced the torrent of emotions and sensations before, the union screwing with his head and all.

It was like he was grasping at some intangible concept that, every time he got close, close enough to take his claws over that confusing thing, it twirled that much further from his grasp. There was no solidity, no way to completely combat what was happening to him.

So he tried to stay away.

M-21 knew that the family he had made, that he valued more than anything else, wanted him back. He knew how the distance he forced himself to erect hurt them. They tried so hard to reach him, so fucking hard M-21 wanted to cry and give in. But the thought of physically injuring them, becoming nothing more than an instinctual, rabid monster that they would be forced to put down, encouraged him.

Though what was happening now damaged their relationship, that...that would break them.

M-21 barely even came home anymore, isolating himself in the woods where the urges didn't rage so badly. Destroying the land around him had settled his mind for a time, a short and ultimately finite respite.

He wanted more.

More of what though?

M-21 didn't know anymore.

But he wanted to see them, his family. He just wanted to be somewhere safe again, where the people who legitimately cared about him were.

Just for a moment, that's all he needed.

Such a lie.

M-21 darted through the forestry, smashing trees as he simply barreled through oak after oak. The way the wind tore at his skin, through his hair, as chaos reigned around him, he could almost convince himself it sated the urges that sat like a hot poker in his gut.

Almost.

M-21 didn't know how long he ran, or even where he was in conjunction to the house, but he let his instincts guide him for once. After what seemed like an eternity, the land around M-21 evened out, dirt and earth morphing into concrete and light. He took to the building then, still in enough control not to destroy the city.

Time bent and warped once again and M-21 came to standing directly in front of the place he called home for so long. Sucking air into his lungs, enough to the point where it hurt, M-21 schooled his expression into one of indifference. Though he couldn't keep his hands from shaking, no matter how hard he tried.

It was then that M-21 noticed something was off about the house. It wasn't the structure itself, not at all, in fact it was something WITHIN his home.

Nose pointed up in the air he finally realized why it seemed so terribly off. There was someone he didn't know inside.

Inside.

With his family.

DANGERFIGHATTACKKILLDOMINATE

For once M-21 didn't fight against his baser instincts. His family was in danger. Someone was in there. Someone he didn't know.

A werewolf he didn't know.

Without a second thought, reared back his head as a roar, a twisted melody that sung of ferocity and protectiveness. It was not a roar that decimated cities, but a call. A challenge.

Why did he want to fight again?

Who knew at this point.

Not even a second after the call left his lips, M-21 was surrounded by strange people, each keeping a safe distance. Something at the back of his mind screamed stop, banged uselessly against the cage that kept him.

It didn't matter anymore.

He gave another growl in warning, he didn't care about these people. They weren't what he wanted. He wanted the werewolf.

M-21 could feel the werewolfs energy prickling against his skin, it was off putting. Too powerful.

But oh he didn't care anymore.

"Oi, M-21."

M-21 turned and leapt, narrowing his eyes at the man standing where he had been moments before. The man was, for all intents and purposes, intimidating to say the least. A shock of unruly silver hair danced lazily in the wind, framing a face that spoke of danger, of power. Even looking at the werewolf, M-21 could easily see the strength in that scarred, muscled body.

"If your gonna call a challenge like that, you better be serious."

M-21 sneered.

Before he could even blink, Muzaka had secured an arm around his middle and leapt, using his strength to carry the two of them into a clearing devoid of human life. Just as he had promised Raizel.

M-21 slipped through Muzaka's grasp and attempted to put enough distance between himself and the werewolf lord so as to give himself more room to maneuver. Claws extended, he barreled towards the man who seemed completely at ease.

Strike after strike, Muzaka dodged lazily, reaching out to correct M-21's punches or strikes wherever he could. It frustrated M-21 that this man wasn't taking him seriously. It grated against some primal desire to be respected by one of his standing. For the life of M-21 he had no clue where it came from.

But both sides of himself seemed to agree, they wanted this man to respect them. Treat them as an equal.

M-21 grasped deep within himself, grazing against that bundle of power that made his heart race. With every beat, it stretched over his body and within the blink of an eye he could feel the tell tale burn of fur sprouting on his arms and neck. With new eyes he settled his gaze on the werewolf, who was simply giving him a thoughtful look.

"Ohhhhh, you're really serious about this. Well come on then M-21, let's fight."

OoOo

His mind was so addled by the wild fire that blazed through him, seeming to only be encouraged by their fight, that M-21 didn't realize the severity of his wounds untill his scraped and bloody knees gave out beneath him. He had no idea how long they had been at this, it felt likenan eternity that M-21 tried to breach Muzakas defenses and get a solid hit on the elusive man.

The chase, the strain, made his blood boil in some strange, alien sensation. The blood pooled into his groin and if M-21 was of sound mind, he'd be thoroughly embarrassed that he was sporting a hard on while he got the crap beat out of him. But as it was, all he could do was listen to the steady, increasing chant of 'more' that seemed to repeat in perpetual need.

On his knees, M-21 gave Muzaka an appreciative once over. The man had hardly broken a sweat, but he sported a handful of scratches that M-21 had painstakingly stuck him with during the duration of their battle. He had taken him seriously once he'd landed a hit, both to M-21's pleasure and misfortune.

He didn't remember ever feeling so alive. Adrenaline and something else raced through him, and through exhaustion hung over his bruised frame, his bare chest heaving in exertion, he felt like he could do anything.

But what did he want to do?

That infuriating, deceptively simple question had been present throughout the entirety of this ordeal and M-21 felt like he was on the cusp of an answer.

He wanted...

M-21 regarded Muzaka as if he held the solution in the palm of his hand, which, once he put some thought into it, was probably a true statement.

Speaking of the werewolf lord, he was now towering over him in victory. But not just victory. Patience, as if he were waiting for something.

Everything clicked together with a frightening intensity in that short moment, all those cogs that endlessly turned in his head clicking together. He knew what Muzaka was waiting for, what M-21 himself had been aching so desperately for. He had been fighting so implicitly against the truth that was shouting for release in his blood. He didn't want to admit it, still didn't in fact, but...

It seemed so tantalizing.

Once again, M-21 stopped thinking and let his instincts guide him. They knew what to do, what he wanted, more so than M-21 himself knew at least.

Pushing his aching body up, to rest on his folded knees, he barred his neck to Muzaka. Uncertainty blended together with arousal and anticipation, it really was an intoxicating cocktail.

Muzaka refused to move, to M-21's displeasure. It seemed the werewolf lord was still waiting for something.

"Please" he whimpered, whined.

If begging got him what he needed then he'd happily beg, pride be damned.

With a small, almost imperceptible smile, Muzaka leaned down, connecting his lips to M-21's. The kiss was chaste, light and cautious. He was afraid to hurt him, M-21 realized, another flare of irritation jolting him at the thought. He wasn't dainty, nor was he fragile. M-21 was strong, and damn if he wasn't going to prove that to Muzaka.

Reaching a hand to fist itself through the mane of silver hair, M-21 growled into Muzaka's lip and let his own lips part. At his desperate urging Muzaka deepened the kiss, tongue tracing the inside of M-21's mouth as if he were trying to memorize it.

The kiss sent shocks down M-21's spine and he shivered in want, Muzakas tongue was particularly sinful and he couldn't help but picture that mouth on his cock. The image set a whine pitching through his throat.

He wanted more.

Briefly pulling away, Muzaka chuckled. "So you want it like that do you? Very kinky, M-21."

Muzaka pushed him down to the point where he was sprawled out on the dirt, the werewolf lord straddling him and giving him a look that spoke of a deep, carnal hunger. Much like his own really.

"I was gonna fuck you nice and slow, but if you wanna do it this way I definitely have no problem with that."

With an impatient growl, M-21 rocked his clothed erection against Muzaka own. He wanted the man to see how much he wanted this. How much he needed this.

In response, Muzaka connected their mouths in a sloppy kiss that had teeth scraping against teeth, and lord help him, a fair amount of biting. He liked it when Muzaka took his bottom lip into his own mouth and gave it a nip. M-21 moaned in an effort to encourage the man.

This time, Muzaka was the one who ground against M-21 and with the stimulation of the kiss and the rocking against his dick, he seriously thought he was going to fall apart.

Muzaka, after giving his lip yet another affectionate nip, trailed kisses down M-21's jaw, pausing to suck every so often. A whine met the werewolf lord at the lack of kissing but when his mouth found M-21's nipple, all he could do was pant breathlessly.

He still wanted more, so much more.

"Yea, yea, I hear you."

Without a second thought M-21 was divested of his already torn jeans while Muzaka quickly removed his own in a similar fashion.

"Damn, you're really fucking sexy like this." Muzaka admired the man beneath him, M-21 blushing and writhing as Muzakas hand found his dick and gave a few rough pumps. "You're gonna love this though."

With cheeky grin, Muzaka brought his fingers to M-21's mouth, ordering him to suck, to which the man happily complied. Muzaka drank in the sight of M-21, legs spread and lavishly licking and sucking on his fingers. Damn, he really wanted to fuck him already.

"Okay I'm gonna stick em in now, it might hurt a bit."

If M-21 were more aware, he might have laughed at how Muzaka carefully and considerfully warned him. But as it was, he really didn't care. He wanted to feel. To experience. Pain, pleasure, whatever worked really.

Muzakas fingers found his entrance without much more urging and pushed in, making M-21 gasp. It stung a bit and felt incredibly strange, but it was something tangible. A respite from the hell he'd been subjected to these past few weeks.

Tears escaped his eyes of their own accord and Muzaka leaned in, kissing the falling liquid away with the soft touch of a lover while growling safe platitudes to help calm the younger wolf, before recapturing his lips once again. Once M-21 adjusted, Muzaka moved his fingers, pumping them into M-21.

He felt so good, so fucking good. The inferno that blazed inside him wasn't so painful anymore, instead it had morphed into something entirely more delicious, something that had M-21 whimpering into the kiss that seemed to want to devour him and shifting his hips to slam right onto those fingers.

After a few thrusts, Muzaka struck something in M-21 that had him completely engulfed in those flames that burned so wonderfully. He arched his back and curled his toes at the sheer pleasure the action had wrought.

"Please" M-21 begged as Muzaka siscored into him. "More. Want you inside"

"I can definitely do that" Pulling his fingers from M-21's ass, Muzaka spit into his palm before coating his dick in saliva. "I like it when you beg, it's really hot."

M-21 snorted in mock laughter.

Lining up his cock with M-21's entrance, Muzaka pushed in gradually, despite M-21's pleas and cries to go faster. Gods above M-21 was so tight, and the constant shift of hips really wasn't doing anything for his self control.

"Moreeee" M-21 panted.

After one last shove Muzaka was fully in, it didn't take long for M-21 to beg the werewolf lord to move. And after a few thrusts, he didn't need any encouragement In that regard.

Muzaka paused for a brief moment, appreciating the honest way the younger werewolf allowed his aching body to react. It was quite the sight, having M-21 beneath him, only able to beg for Muzaka. It was endearing, that absolute vulnerability that accompanied letting the beast within roam unchecked.

"What are you waiting for?" M-21 hissed. "I want you, damnit. Fuck me."

Well shit, what could he say to that.

Flashing a heated grin to signal that he was about to resume, Muzaka began to thrust his hips. The sensation of M-21 beneath him, rolling his hips to meet Muzaka, was overwhelming. It unsettled him somewhat, that this werewolf was completely obliterating his self control so effortlessly.

M-21 clenched around him, drawing Muzaka back to the present moment. The moment of having a beautiful, seductive werewolf melt like putty beneath his experienced claws.

Muzaka met M-21's needy stare with his own unsure, cautious one. He sincerely didn't want to hurt this wolf by completely giving in to his inner beast. But every time their eyes met he could hear the plea that the younger wolf was unable to voice.

More.

He wanted so much more, wanted to feel the passion of the former werewolf lord first hand.

Well, who was Muzaka to deny such a lovely creature that simple request.

Lips clashed against one another as Muzaka applied more force to his thrusts, hands grasping M-21's hips in a bruising vice. M-21 shrieked and howled with reckless abandon as Muzaka repeatedly struck that sensitive spot that seemed to only stoke the violent flames within him.

Completely lost to the his own instincts, Muzaka allowed himself to nibble playful bites across the expanse of younger werewolfs skin. It felt so natural, that deep insatiable urge to mark. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice he really didn't care to listen to warned him he was getting carried away.

Self control be damned.

He could feel M-21 clench around him, signaling he was quickly approaching his own climax. Speeding up his pace, Muzaka buried his face into the crook of the mans neck, tongue darting out to tease and taste the tantalizing flesh . Without a second thought he bit down, hard. The delectable tinge of iron bleeding out onto his tongue.

It was a contract in it's own way.

Claiming and possessive.

Beneath the ethereal night sky, lit by stars that glistened like ripples through a calm stream, the two melded together for a brief moment. Fear, passion and a sense of utter belonging intertwining to bring about a single being.

Muzaka wasn't sure who came first or who screamed what, but to be honest, he didn't quite care anymore.

OoOo

The first thing Muzaka realized as he lay beneath the stars with an unconscious, sated M-21 curled up beside him, head resting against his chest, was the absolute sense of peace that seemed to radiate from the younger wolf. It seemed the beast within had gotten what it wanted and finally left M-21 to enjoy the tranquil, blank space of deep, satisfied sleep.

Like this, M-21 seemed so...beautiful.

Despite the dirt and blood that had caked itself to his skin, there was something so defenseless about him in this state. So truthful and innocent.

Running his fingers through the tangled, silver mess of M-21's hair, Muzaka carefully groomed the sleeping man. Gaze roaming over the content, unguarded face and traveling to the raised mark, an angry shock of red flesh, that resided on his neck. Muzaka felt a strange, overwhelming sense of pride and possessiveness at the sight.

Huh, that was strange.

Shrugging it off, Muzaka brought the M-21's body closer to his, inhaling his scent with a soft smirk. He smelled of the faint tinge of cinnamon and pine, reminding Muzaka of the vast forests that he had grown up in. It was nostalgic in a sense, and for the first time in a very long while, he didn't feel so alone.

He had someone to protect, and he would make sure that this time, he succeeded.

With a jaw cracking yawn, Muzaka rested his chin on the younger wolfs head, eyes drifting shut as a foreign, and welcome emotion rolled through him.

It was contentment.

edit; sorry bout the spacing, fixed it ;u;


	2. Trust

It was another fairly uneventful day at Ye-Ran high, stylishly erected architecture encasing the continuous throngs of summer-school students that darted from class to class, desperate to beat the bell. No one wanted to be sentenced to the hell that was running laps in this heat. M-21 however, basked under the rays of sunlight that caressed his skin like the reassuring, attentive hand of a lover.

Weeks had passed since the 'incident', as Tao had so aptly named the weeks of M-21 trying to distance himself from his family. Thankfully however, the household had pretended as if it had never happened in the first place. For which M-21 was eternally greatfull.

It was as if nothing had occurred and everything had reversed back to its comfortable, recognizable monotony.

Only, it hadn't. Not fully anyways.

Yes, M-21 was no longer waging a desperate losing battle against his inner wolf, but something deep inside, on an almost imperceptible level, had changed. Evolved in its basic nature.

It began as most evenings at their household usually did; with the children lounging about Frankensteins living room, a wide variety of colorful treats(American candies Suyi had brought back in conquest from her tour in the United States) being passed around in wonder and enjoyment. Much to the houseowners chagrin.

M-21 sat hunched over the black coffee table, hand fisted beneath his chin in thought. He felt...strange. Not necessarily in a bad way, more of a foreign, 'I-have-no-clue-what-this-means' sort've way.

His eyes continually found themselves focusing on the group of excited children happily gorging on junk food, along with a curious, wide-eyed noblesse and nobles. It wouldn't have been all that abnormal were it not for the fact that every time M-21 looked at them a possessive, fond feeling rushed through him.

It wasn't anything overwhelming, far from it actually. It was pleasant.

A sense of belonging.

Family.

HIS family.

"Ehhhhhhh? Ajhussi? You're starin at us all weird." Shinwoo cocked his head to the side, a teasing lilt to his voice. "You okay?"

"Yeah, you've been looking at us weirdly all night" Ikhan heartily agreed.

"I have no clue what you're talking about."

"I thought it was pretty cute actually." Yuna giggled softly into her hand while Suyi openly laughed at M-21's obvious embarrassment.

M-21 heaved a sigh and decided, with much internal debate on his part, to just let the kids think what they wanted. He wasn't looking at them weird. Nope, totally not. Everything was as normal as always.

He totally wasn't trying to convince himself either.

"It's okay Ajhussi, you don't gotta be embarrassed." Shinwoo flashed him a deceptively supportive grin. "We're kinda awesome so it pretty understandable why you'd be staring."

Exasperated by the red heads teasing M-21 was about to shoot out a retort when he noticed something that stopped him cold in his tracks. There were crumbs of wayward food stuck on the kids cheek.

Cub, his mind supplied, groom the cub.

Without another word M-21 brought his finger to his mouth, then reached over to grab Shinwoo by the chin, rubbing furiously, while still making sure to be gentle as the kit was delicate and squishy, at the mess on the teens face. Here was his cub, ungroomed and messy. That really wouldn't do.

Finally satisfied he released Shinwoo and sat back, regarding the now spotless cheek with pride.

"Ummm...Ajhussi?"

M-21 snapped out of his parental haze to find everyone staring at him, each with varying degrees of amusement present in their eyes. None more so then Tao and Shinwoo though, those two wore their best shit eating grins with pride.

"Ajhussi...are you my new mom?" Shinwoo reached over the table and grabbed M-21 in a bone crushing hug. "Imma call you momma-Ahjussi!"

M-21 couldn't do anything more than furiously blush and sputter uselessly at the kids words, but at the same time he felt happy. Content to be considered a parent figure to this child he cared so much for. With a halfhearted scowl, M-21 reciprocated the hug by reassuringly patting the teen back.

"Call me whatever, I don't care."

A resounding 'click' rang throughout the room as Tao held aloft his phone, commemorating the heartwarming moment with a sneak picture.

"Smile momma-Ahjussi!"

"TAO!"

OooOOooo

Once again a sigh escaped M-21's lips, he had been doing that a lot lately, especially considering the sudden onslaught of urges that screamed 'pack' at him whenever he was around his family. Which wasn't necessarily a negative thing. It was rather nice to feel like he had a cohesive unit to which he belonged and could protect, a solid anchor that tethered him to this reality he had so painstakingly fought for. Happily fought for.

It was more that he just didn't know where these thoughts were coming from. Also too that Tao now had a mountains worth of blackmail material, what with him getting all parental around everyone. Save Frankenstein and Rai, those two were leaders. Protectors. He looked to them for guidance and safety.

Once again catching his mind creeping towards that unfamiliar territory, as if trying to sneak in those thoughts that filled him with such a deep, profound sense of happiness.

Yes, he liked feeling like this, so interwoven into a healthy, familial dynamic. But the issue was he didn't know why. Why these thoughts were only now shoving their way to the surface.

Not that they weren't there prior, but they certainly weren't so strong.

So lost in thought, he didn't notice a presence at his door until a hearty knock jolted him back to the present.

"Come in."

Carefully opening the door, as if hesitant to break it (which was a reasonable caution considering the person), Seira poked her head into M-21's room.

"Dinner is ready, we called but you didn't respond. We were worried."

"Ah sorry, I was...preoccupied...with.. Uh...stuff?" M-21 rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, not really sure how to go about explaining his thoughts.

Seira stared at his face in that way only she could, seeming to pick a person apart with a single, knowing glance. Snowy brows furrowed in concern as she regarded him.

"Something is bothering you."

It wasn't a question.

M-21's gut reaction was to lie, to quickly obscure vulnerabilities that could be used against him. But something stopped him from crafting some fictitious explanation, a twinge that rocked through his body and kept him silent.

She was pack, family. An equal. He was causing he worry and pain by running away from his thoughts and once again attempting to distance himself.

A whine shot out of M-21's throat, he didn't want to hurt his pack. He was supposed to protect. He couldn't protect M-24 and now here he was, miserably failing his family once again.

Hunched over in self degradation, M-21 didn't sense Seira until she stood before him. Close enough that her scent, fresh pine and something dark he couldn't quite place, comforted him. Muscles he hadn't realized were tense, releasing at her reassuring presence.

Cautiously, as if unsure how to properly position her arms, she gave M-21 a tentative hug, gentle as if he were a fragile piece of porcelain beneath her hands. When M-21 involuntarily shivered with emotion, a visceral sadness that tinged his tongue with something bitter and grotesque, Seira became more sure of herself and gave her embrace more force.

More feeling.

In that hug, she laid bare the possessiveness that mirrored his own. He was family to the silver haired noble who seemed so passive in the turbulent world around her. As she and the rest of his family were his anchor amongst the raging chaos that seemed to seep into every facet of their lives, he was theirs.

Pack.

Family.

A smile played over his lips as he returned the hug, filtering as much gratitude and love into his movements as he possibly could.

"Thank you Seira, I... I've been more than a little stressed with everything that's happened lately." The words flowed without much thought, thought would only make him falter. "My brain seems to be changing and I have no clue how or why. I'm...scared I guess."

Giving him a reassuring squeeze, Seira rested her chin atop the crown of his head. "It is okay to be scared and unsure, M-21. Everyone is at one point or another."

"Even you?"

"Yes, even me. I have a lot of fears, losing what Regis and I have here among them. No one is ever completely free from fear, no matter how powerful a being they may be. One can only rely on others to keep them from becoming subservient to it, to trust I suppose you could say." With a gentile smile she pulled back, acceptance and understanding radiating from her. "We are here for you M-21, we all are. Now, let us go to dinner before the food gets cold. We're having pasta tonight."

Following Seira down to the dining room, M-21 couldn't resist the joy rolling around inside him. He was safe.

He was home.

00oooo000

It was a rather humid night, moisture weighing heavy in the inky darkness as light from the bustling city beneath M-21's feet permeated the night air, shooting through the sky like frenzied fireflies. Air whipped across his skin as he leapt from building to building, tearing at his suit and face. It was a pleasant feeling, that familiar sting of wind that came with running about at high speeds.

Why M-21 was running, he honestly didn't know. He didn't know a lot of things as of late what with his instinctual side slowly becoming more and more an essential part of him.

He wasn't so afraid of it all anymore, and while he certainly wasn't welcoming towards the change, he was no longer trying to run away. He trusted his family, and his family trusted him. With that fact settled firm in his mind, M-21 felt at ease.

Having a family, a pack, was strange. But somehow, it was something he was sure he could happily get used to.

Pausing in his step, M-21 halted, eyes roving over the active city skyline, teeming with life. He had always appreciated the view that came with being apart of a metropolis, much preferring it to the stark white planes and angles of he laboratories that, for so long, was all that M-21 was and would be. Nothing more than a disposable tool to poke and prod.

The phantom feeling of a cold needle poking into his skin made him frown. He hated when his memories hit him like that, made him feel as he was right back in that hell.

A strong aura made itself known in that moment, a familiar presence that burned like a super nova. M-21 should have felt fear, or even apprehension at the sudden intrusion into his night run, but in all honesty relief won out against everything else. It was nice to have a distraction from the unsavory route his thoughts had turned.

Anything not to feel the needle again.

"Why if it isn't M-21, fancy meeting you here." Muzaka leapt only a few feet away from where M-21 glared out into he distance, not even bothering to acknowledge the new arrival.

"What do you want?"

Muzaka reached a hand to clutch at his chest, grasping at the black fabric in mock hurt before snickering. "Oh how you wound me with your coldness."

"I don't see why I shouldn't be cold towards you."

Muzaka sauntered over to sit beside M-21, legs swinging over the edge as he too looked into distance, attempting to see whatever M-21 seemed so focused on. "Eh, you don't have to be any way you don't want to around me, I prefer honesty when it comes to people. Had way to many people lie to me, fake bastards that they were."

That got a glance out of the younger wolf, a brief glimpse but it was better than nothing. Sometimes Muzaka forgot that beyond his wild, fierce reputation, most really didn't know the type of person he was. Specifically in M-21's case, all the man knew of him was that he had put one of his pack members into a prolonged sleep.

Oh, and that he was really good at sex. Couldn't forget that.

"Yeah, lotta people tend to be afraid of the whole 'super powerful werewolf lord' thing, so they just be what they think will get them what they want. Better to put distance between someone that has the power to kill you at their whimsy." He shrugged. "So needless to say when someone is honest, even if I don't like what they have to say, I can at least respect them."

"That...sounds lonely."

Brows raised in shock, Muzaka shot him a questioning glance. He really didn't expect the man to respond.

"Eh, it is what it is. I never had the luxury of feeling sad about it, too many people trying to kill me and everyone I care about."

M-21 was looking straight at him, expression unreadable. It wasn't pity or disgust, but rather, it was thoughtful. As if he was processing Muzakas words with the entirety of his being.

This wolf seriously was too damn cute sometimes. It wasn't often the werewolf lord was met with such earnest honesty. This man didn't care about platitudes or faces, he was blunt but not ruthlessly so. It was just how he was, and he saw no reason to change that.

"You look like you wanna say something."

"I just think that way of living is lonely, not being able to trust anyone. Only knowing what it's like to have people trying to either kill or take advantage of you." M-21 turned to face the werewolf lord, understanding and empathy in his voice. "No one should have to live like that."

"You sound like your speaking from experience."

"I am, I guess." M-21 turned his head back to the skyline before taking a deep breath. "I only ever remember laboratories and doctors who were far too eager to inject things into people. Mostly me. I was made in a lab, made as a tool, a disposable one. My comrades around me died and I was unable to protect them. I remember the constant fear, the wariness and distrust. It's only thanks to Rai and Frankenstein that I can have this life."

Muzaka considered him for a moment.

"I hope you are able to find that life, nobody should be that alone."

M-21's words struck like a punch to the gut, enough so that Muzaka felt winded. Something he had not experienced in an incredibly long time. What did this wolf know about loneliness, about the loss he suffered?!

Of having to cradle the lifeless body of your only child.

For a brief, but dangerous moment Muzaka wanted so desperately to lash out in anger, in pain. But as his eyes met M-21's he saw something he hadn't seen before. Something he hadn't known to look for.

There was nothing but a kindred spirit there, familiar with the horror and unfairness that sort of life wrought. The man wasn't saying anything he surely didn't mean a hundred percent, that he hadn't excessively bled through himself.

This wolf continued to surprise him.

With a soft smirk on his lips, Muzaka leaned back, ignoring M-21's stare. "You are quite the interesting person M-21, I'm glad Raizel has you in his life."

M-21 chuckled at that, seeming far more relaxed than he was prior. It lasted for a short while until he faltered, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. Nervous even.

"So, uh, I have a question."

"Shoot."

"I've been feeling really weird ever since that time you-" M-21 stopped suddenly, a light blush coloring his face as he turned in embarrassment. "Uh...helped me."

Deciding not to embarrass the man further, Muzaka let the comment go, focusing on the matter at hand. He was feeling weird? What exactly did that mean?

"Explain."

"I keep having these urges to... Take care of everyone." M-21's face scrunched up as he struggled for the words to convey his predicament.

"What do the urges tell you?"

"Pack, take care of the pack, things like that. I have no clue where the hell this all came from."

Muzaka blinked, amusement coloring his features as he regarded M-21. "Did that peacock ever explain what was happening to you?"

"Peacock?"

"Sorry, Frankenstein."

"Ah, yeah, he told me something along the lines of I was maturing as a werewolf."

Muzaka sighed in exasperation, clearly the idiot scientist didn't properly detail M-21's progression into adulthood and caution him for what that would entail. Which meant it fell to Muzaka to help.

"Well, that's a start I suppose." He said, clearly expressing his distaste at Frankensteins failure to do what I'm his mind was a simple task. "Basically, as he said, you're maturing as a wolf. What that entails however is establishing ones role in a pack, and since you don't have a formal pack as it's understood, you've integrated yourself into the dynamic there, adopting them I guess you could say."

M-21 nodded in understanding, once again donning a thoughtful expression.

"Werewolves are very social creatures, lacking companionship from ones own kind can be dangerous. As your maturing you'll need to be introduced into our society, else you'll end up reliving that battle with your inner wolf daily."

Eyes wide in shock, M-21 tried to comprehend what the werewolf lord was telling him. It seemed so far off, abstract even, and if he tried he could almost convince himself it was all some lie.

"Oh and since we're on the subject, you remember the way you felt when you let your instincts go?"

His stomach churned with dread.

"That's what we call a 'heat'. Newly matured wolves experience them often, the frequency depending on the wolf. Wolves mark their partners to protect them, as I've done with you. Being unmarked is dangerous, especially for one without a pack."

M-21's hand shot up to his neck as if it burned, calloused palm resting against the bite mark at the base of his throat. He was wondering why the bite hadn't faded and with the knowledge of why, he felt sick.

He was property.

Again.

A tool.

Vitriol in his voice he snarled. "What are you getting at?"

Muzaka looked completely unperturbed by his sudden change in demeanor. Instead choosing to stand and directly face the defensive wolf, he knew what M-21 might be feeling at his words. Tact had never been Muzakas strong point after all.

"What I'm getting at, is that you are becoming an adult werewolf. You are no ones property M-21, in fact this is the complete opposite of that. Marking isn't made to control or force submission, its more of..." His mind whirred in its desperate reach for words. "A promise."

"A promise." M-21 repeated, disbelief radiating off him in pulsating waves.

"Yes. That I will protect you to my dying breath."

The mans breath hitched.

"You...can't possibly mean that..."

"I can and I do, I wouldn't have done what I did if I wasn't." Reaching out to tap the raised flesh of the bite, Muzaka poured certainty into his words. "Yes, you will go into more heats, but I promise you that you won't have to face this alone. You aren't alone anymore M-21, I know you don't trust me and that's okay. But I will never lie to you."

Hand returning to his side, Muzaka smiled as M-21 turned away, completely obscuring his expression. He didn't expect the man to believe him but at least the words had been said.

"I guess..." M-21 near whispered. "That means I will be seeing you around."

Heh, again with the surprises. This wolf really was something.

"Only if you want, I'll never force anything you don't want on you."

Images of their last meeting struck through M-21's head, concurring that his words rang true. Even at his most desperate, layers upon layers of carefully constructed armor peeled back to reveal that vulnerable beast within, Muzaka refused to do anything M-21 didn't implicitly ask for first.

Tensing the muscles in his legs, he prepared to jump. Turning his head he looked at Muzaka one last time and tried to keep the blush off his cheeks.

"I think...I would"

And with that M-21 leapt right back into the darkness, something inexplicable and alien pulsing through his heart. If he were being honest, and he was, it felt good.

000oo00


	3. Of promises, fights and bites

A/n - sorry for posting the chappie wrong at first and thank you to the lovely person who brought it to my attention.

0000000000

The day was long and arduous, stretching itself taut with the students excitable anticipation for the coming weekend, sun settling in a glow of soft red that reminded M-21 of dying embers. The school, for the most part, was comfortably quiet, sound following the children who all but threw themselves out the main gate. It was a calm afternoon that blended into an equally tranquil evening as cautious steps paced around the building in a final patrol.

Takeo and Tao had tagged along with Rai, Seira, Regis and the children barely an hour prior, leaving M-21 to check and lock up the high-school. He didn't mind, actually being the one to insist the two leave him to his own devices and have have fun with the others. M-21 rather enjoyed having those brief seconds to himself before heading back to a bustling, genial household.

He loved being part of his pack, an integral member and protector of his cherished family. But, just the same, every so often, when stress tinged at the furthest recesses of his brain, he also enjoyed some silence and solitude.

There were a few stragglers in M-21's last check throughout the building, but one look at his impatient and scowling face had them obediently running home without protest. Most were rather intimidated by his colder demeanor and sharp glares that refused to soften no matter how much effort he put into doing so, which was okay in these circumstances. Made his job easier at the very least.

With his rounds complete and the building sufficiently emptied, M-21 paced his way through the main courtyard, seeking a lone bench that called out to him in an enticing way. He was outright exhausted from the past few months that had rushed by in a flurry of awkward domesticity and the past few weeks following a certain event.

The household was as refreshingly normal as it always was; Tao constantly goading the rest of the house into constant movie or game nights, Regis and himself bickering fondly while continually trying to one up each other, Seira showing him how to cook, and the ever reliable presence of Frankenstein and Rainwatching over all of them in a happily parental manner. All very day to day things really, and certainly not out of the ordinary. Save for that one unexplainable enigma that seemed to have wormed its way into his life.

That was, a certain cocky, loud mouthed individual by the name of Muzaka.

The werewolf lord had taken M-21's words to heart on that fateful night where a promise that brought about such conflicting emotions was forged and realized. With a boisterous and characteristically excessive approach, he sought out the company of M-21. Most nights they leapt from building to building, traversing the concrete jungle for a light jog and making conversation as they went. Sometimes they stayed at the house and found a way to incorporate Muzaka into their game and movie nights.

He had come to realize quite a bit about the werewolf lord during their time together, more so then that he hated monopoly and any movie that didn't include fighting, though those were all true. M-21 had begunto understand certain facts about Muzaka, just as the man had about him.

Muzaka loved the feel of rain prickling at his skin, adored the thrill of a good battle coursing through his veins and most importantly, when he chose to, loved with the entirety of his being. His family, his deceased daughter and even Rai, all of these things he would give anything to protect and made that fact well known. M-21 admired that about him the most, that despite the hell he'd been subjected to, one the younger werewolf was very familiar with, he still maintained that unconditional love that felt like a safe harbor in a roaring storm.

M-21 told Muzaka, sometimes begrudgingly sometimes not, of his past; a chorus of death, abandonment and sterile laboratories, and always he listened to with an understanding that seemed almost second nature to the scarred man. He spoke of how he cared for the new family he had made, how he loved being able to take care of others when everything else prior he tried to protect was so brutally torn away from him.

Sometimes they found restaurants (usually recommended by Tao) to talk the night away, Muzaka reviling tales of his endless travels to new and interesting places. M-21 had seen quite a bit of the world while under the control of the Union and he figured himself a fairly worldly individual, but he really had nothing on Muzaka, who seemed to have been everywhere at one point or another.

More than that even, they taught one another about their respective cultures, and though M-21 really had never had a full taste of the 'human experience', he certainly knew more an Muzaka who was under the assumption that humans still got around by horse and carriage(he was utterly amazed by the creation of cars).

There was one night however that had left a rather werewolf sized impression on M-21. It was on a busy Saturday evening that the two found themselves downtown, patiently waiting for a table in the crowded dinner that Tao had all but commanded they try. It was a nice enough place, he noted as a stressed waiter directed them briskly to their table before running off.

Cream colored walls chock full with posters of varying sizes and themes seemed to wrap itself around the spacious seating area where very few of the plush red seats were without a paying customer to sit. Children darted throughout the aisles, cackling with glee as they chased one another, each taking turn to be the 'viscous man eating werewolf', to both M-21's and Muzaka's amusement.

"You know it's times like this that I really miss having a pack." Muzaka regarded the boisterous children with eyes longing for a time that had well since passed. "You're never really alone there and everyone knows everyone. It's a nice feeling sometimes."

M-21 said nothing, picking up the fact he really didn't want the younger man to say anything. He just wanted company of someone who could make him feel as if nothing had changed. There was no supposed final battle between friends and no lifeless, limp corpse to clutch desperately at to stave off reality for a bit longer. M-21 could understand that.

"Y'know that reminds me...there's a festival coming up soon."

"Festival?"

"Yeah, see, werewolves are separated by packs. In every region there are small independent packs, and then there are the large ones. In order to stay safe from terf wars, the smaller packs ally themselves with the bigger ones for protection."

The frazzled waiter once again appeared, plopping down their drinks(M-21 lemonade, and Muzaka Diet Coke) before flashing them a robotic smile and running off.

"Terf wars?"

Muzaka cautiously grabbed at the can, inspecting it hesitantly before popping it open. "Yeah, terf wars used to be a big problem. Smaller packs would ally with others to take over the bigger packs. Too many innocent and unaligned werewolves died in the crossfire of those selfish wars. It was a very dark time for our kind."

"You said it 'was', what changed?"

"I did." He sighed, leaning back nonchalantly. "It took a damn long time, but I visited each and every one of those larger packs and fought for the title of alpha. It was annoying, but eventually I accomplished what I'd set out to do."

"Which was?"

"To unite the larger packs in a democratic council and set new rules that would protect smaller packs and packless wolves. I was tired of watching innocent blood being shed for such pointless reasons so I did everything to make a more unified government. Instead of becoming their alpha when I bested their leaders, I cut them a deal; either join the council I was making or become an enemy. It's was enough to get the packs to agree after that."

M-21's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the man who had just casually explained how he'd spearheaded a complete revolution as if he were simply recalling the weather. "I think you're being a bit more humble than your actions justify."

"Ehhh? Does that mean you think I'm impressive?"

M-21 blushed furiously and quickly turned his head away to glare daggers into the red leather of his seat. "I didn't say that."

"You think I'm amazing." Muzaka shot him a coy, teasing grin, reaching out to pat the flustered man. "It's okay, you're pretty cool yourself."

"Whatever." He scoffed, cheeks still dusted a rosy pink and brain screaming at him to change the subject. "What does any of this have to do with the festival you were talking about?"

"Oh yeah, so anyways to celebrate and promote the formation of the council there's a festival every hundred and fifty years where werewolves from all over gather in peace and coexist for the entire week the festival is run. It's also a celebration of culture and tradition of werewolves. It's a really amazing place to visit."

"Did you ever go when you were the werewolf King?"

"No, I didn't." Muzaka gave a melancholy smile, recalling the past with a sort of bitter-sweetness. "Too many people were scared of me, considering I singlehandedly defeated the alphas of all the ruling packs. I was a story they told to naughty kits, 'don't step out of line or else the big bad werewolf lord will come gobble you up'."

It suddenly hit M-21 how alike both Muzaka and Rai were, and why they became such close comrades in the face of that visceral fear everyone regarded them with. To be so powerful that everyone you protected was so undeniably terrified of you, to be so alone and without any allies. Such a lonely existence.

In an effort to steer Muzaka away from the past, M-21 thought of ways to change the topic, or at least keep him from making that dejected, depressed face.

"So uh... When is this festival exactly."

Muzaka blinked, surprised. "Eh, if I remember correctly it should be in about a month or so, I have some old friends I managed to get back in contact with so I'll ask them when the exact date is.

He paused, looking speculatively at M-21 before grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "Would you wanna come with me for this years festival?"

"Eh?"

"Yeah, it would be a really good opportunity for you to socialize with other werewolves and learn about your culture."

M-21 frowned, confusion at being considered a full blooded werewolf evident on his face. He was absolutely conflicted, to say the least. He had never been fully considered neither human nor were, so much so that his whole identity was thoroughly vested in the fact he was some anomaly, freak of nature that had no anchor to the world around him. Someone no one would miss.

To be considered otherwise was a strange feeling.

One that brought fear of the unknown and something else.

"M-21, you alright?" Muzaka asked as he waved a hand in front of M-21's unfocused eyes. "Your spacing out on me."

Again, there was that confrontational feeling, one that flared blazing hot within him, stoked by Muzakas knowing gaze and the still present bite placed at the crook of his neck that pulsed whenever the man was near. It made him squirm, slightly but present still. M-21 once again looked away and tried to hear over he sound of his thundering pulse.

He needed to calm down, now. Unjustified rage broiled and before he could stop it, the dam burst.

It was like this every time they met, he recognized, almost like a repetitive yet tantalizingly delicate dance between the two; everything would begin as it always did, interesting conversations laden with uncharacteristic vulnerability, each trying to familiarize themself with the other. Then, when they fell into a comfortable lull, that urge that had driven M-21 so utterly down the proverbial rabbit hole had him challengingly toeing the precipice once again. Only to have him beat a hasty retreat before he could give in to temptation and leap.

Muzaka respected those boundaries, regardless of how apparent M-21's want seemed. Something that both relieved and frustrated him.

"M' you look like you could use a good run, or maybe a spar." Muzaka suggested, voice soothing and full of patience. "It helps burn the excess energy that comes with maturing."

The beast within him, held fast with unbreakable chains, reared its teeth in a flash of anger at the suggestion. A spar wouldn't help him at this point and the man knew that, so why was he beating around the bush.

"You act like it's not inevitable that I'm going to eventually spread my legs for you." M-21 scoffed, some distant part of his brain screaming profanities at him to shut up. "I don't know why you're pretending I have a choice in the matter."

Brow furrowed, Muzaka matched M-21's agitation with his own. "Oi, who the hell do you think I am? I'm not going to force you into doing anything, I like my partners willing thank you very much."

"So I was willing last time was I?"

It was a very low blow, and M-21 knew it. But he just couldn't stop himself at this point. Rage was feeding into lust and it was highly addictive.

True to his assumption, Muzakas gaze darkened, heady with anger and something else. It took a moment before he realized what it was; hurt. Pure, unadulterated hurt.

Oh shit.

M-21 could have smacked himself right in his stubborn fucking head. He literally just insulted, in probably the worst possible manner, the man who had not only saved him from certain hormone induced insanity, but also had trust issues as wide and deep as the Grand Canyon. Out of petty, tension filled frustration.

Fuck.

"M-Muzaka, I'm so s-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Muzaka shot up and quickly walked away without looking back, motions fluid and normal as ever save for the aura of anger that emanated from him. It took several, lengthy minutes for M-21 to process what exactly had just happened.

He had royally fucked up.

0o0o0o0

"Whatever's happening between you two, you should just suck up your pride and talk to him. Your inelegant attitude is getting annoying."

Pausing from where he was currently scrubbing furiously at dishes while still attempting not to break anything, M-21 looked up from his task that had so utterly taken over his concentration that he hadn't noticed Regis approaching him until the bean sprout had spoken. Everything seemed to pause in that moment, as he hyper focused on the brat and gently rested the dishes at the bottom of the sink. Frankenstein definitely would not be pleased if he broke any more dishes than he already had.

"Excuse me?"

Regis defiantly raised his chin, piercing eyes staring straight through him. "Your attitude. It is annoying."

M-21 threw off the salmon colored gloves and apron, hair on the nape of his neck rising at the sudden unexpected confrontation.

"You would know all about being annoying, wouldn't you?"

"Anything annoying I do I've probably learned from you." Regis shot back effortlessly. "I'm saying this as your comrade and friend, M-21. I remember the signs that occurred when you started pulling away from us and while you may not have noticed, it was hell for us, watching you suffer and not having a single clue what to do."

The noble looked towards the tiled floor as if it had offended him somehow, not bothering to obscure the helplessness and frustration he felt during those events. "Whatever happened with Muzaka, it helped. And now that you two have had some...how did Tao put it, oh yes, lovers quarrel-"

M-21 sputtered in indignation and denial.

"-you're starting to do exactly what you did then. I don't want to see you like that, none of us do. So whatever happened, just talk to him or something. That's what Seira suggested at the very least."

All M-21 could do was watch in utter shock as Regis turned foot and retreated from the kitchen, leaving him alone with his thoughts and having only dirty dishes for company. Beneath the anger at having been talked to like that by Regis of all people, he knew the brat was right. He knew that he'd really hurt Muzaka, and that the only way to move past that was to deal with the situation and actually talk about it, but the thought of even broaching that subject with the man was terrifying.

It was almost ironic how facing certain death head on with smart ass remarks following his punches seemed so much simpler then talking about feelings. Give him some ridiculously overpowered noble or modified human with a penchant for murder and he could handle it no problem. But a conversation? That had his knees shaking and palms sweaty.

But M-21 was certainly not one to run away from a challenge, no matter how daunting or impossible it may have seemed. No, he was that person who, no matter what, would walk right into hell with his head raised and fists ready.

The weight of the phone sitting snug in his back pocket was like a weighted chunk of lead that seemed heavier and heavier the longer he hesitated.

With a defeated sigh, M-21 fished out his cell. He knew what he had to do.

0o0o0o0o

If M-21 had to put a name to the feelings that we're currently plaguing him, he would say it was nervousness. A deep, poignant sense that had him shifting from foot to foot in an effort to abate some of that energy. He had, after Regis of all people decided to talk some sense into him, texted Muzaka saying that he wanted to talk as well as informing him that he'd be waiting atop the roof of an office building downtown.

Wind whipped about him as he stared down into the sight of the city's ever bustling night life, the prickling chill feeling soothing against his skin. Even at midnight, cars still honked at one another, drivers raging over bumper to bumper traffic, while pedestrians explored and, more often then not, carted booze and obnoxiously drunk friends from club to club.

If he paid close enough attention to the sights below him, he could almost forget why he was standing atop some random building, already waiting for the longest hour of his life. Almost however wasn't enough to make it go away.

Maybe Muzaka wouldn't come, after all he had seemed extremely hurt after their conversation at the diner. It wouldn't surprise M-21 if maybe the man needed more time before talking about anything.

He, of all people, knew the importance of giving someone space. Didn't mean it made the process any easier but still, he knew how to handle things like this.

Without warning, the bite hidden beneath his suits collar twinged with a delicious, familiar sort of blessed agony. A sharp keen escaped his lips as his knees gave way under the intoxicating mixture of pain and pleasure. His body was once more an inferno, blazing wildly and without direction, incinerating every doubt and inhibition in its path.

As Muzaka leapt onto the building when M-21 had told him he'd be, he gave the kneeling, panting man a concerned frown. Yes, he was hurt by what M-21 had said those few past weeks, but by no means did he want him to suffer. He hadn't even thought of how not being in contact with the one who marked him would affect M-21.

Once marked, it was necessary for partners to maintain continual amounts of contact with whoever marked them. Failure to do so usually resulted in a fair bit of pain accompanied by being forcibly thrust back into the instinctual beast he had tried to save him from.

"You're in pain."

It wasn't a question.

Thunder roared through M-21's ears at the sound of Muzakas voice and he couldn't suppress the shiver of anticipation that dripped down his spine. Why was his body reacting like this? It had only been three weeks since that fateful night at the diner, it hadn't been that long. Had it?

"I-it's not so bad." M-21 all but hissed through gritted teeth, not induced by pain alone. "Plus, I wanted to talk to you."

It took a colossal amount of effort on M-21's part to raise himself to rest on his left knee, muscles and body protesting at the movement as he tried raised his gaze to Muzakas, pouring his emotions out for the man to see.

It shocked Muzaka just as much as it scared the shit out of M-21. He had spent his entire life, or the few years he could remember, sweeping emotions beneath the carpet, stashing them away from prying eyes who sought to use him or hurt him. It wasn't just a matter of him not wanting to talk about things persay as it was that he really didn't know how. Which made this whole ordeal that much more nerve wracking.

Blessedly however, Muzaka stayed silent, sensing that M-21 needed some time to organize his thoughts.

"Look, I...I don't know why I said what I did." M-21 sighed. "Feelings aren't something I usually talk about. Too many years pretending they didn't exist I guess."

The following quiet was by no means uncomfortable, instead it was safe, filled to the brim with consideration, assuring him that Muzaka would listen to whatever he'd say without judgement.

"But, what I said, I didn't.." The words caught on his tongue and he took another steadying breath. "I didn't mean it."

Muzaka raised a brow, asking him to elaborate. God damnit why did apologizing have to be so embarrassing and difficult. He definitely wasn't blushing as he carefully pieced together what he was going to say next, totally not.

"I liked what happened. A lot. I wanted it." His face felt as if we're on fire and he hurriedly looked away. "I...want it. I don't know why I was such an ass, I think I was scared. I've never felt like this before, so controlled by these urges. I don't know how to handle it and I took it out on you. I'm sorry Muzaka."

M-21 couldn't bring himself to face Muzaka, far too caught up in the torrent of emotions that dragged him down a current that seemed to stretch forever where there was never enough oxygen to completely fill his aching lungs. Anticipation and fear manifested as that locked beast within, snarling every which way and unsure whether he wanted the man to talk and acknowledge him, or leave and never look back.

It was so confusing.

A gentle caress against the crown of his head, deft fingers threading through silver hair, snapped M-21 out of his reverie as his eyes shot wide open. When exactly had he closed them?

"You don't have to look like such a kicked puppy, you know." Gazes met and in that instant M-21 saw the compassion that radiated from Muzaka like rays from a summer sun perched high in the sky. "I figured that was the reason, I just needed some time to cool off and thought it would be best to give you some space as well. I appreciate the apology though."

There it was again, that overly fond smile that made his stomach do strange flips, those lips that could either be bruisingly rough or lovingly tender becoming the center of his world.

The hand caressing his hair made a slow crawl down the nape of his neck, feather light touches leaving goosebumps. His hand settled there, rubbing soft circles into the tense muscles. M-21 purred with delight, a guttural sound that had no hope of staying trapt within him, head tilting upwards towards Muzaka invitingly.

Challengingly even.

"M' are you sure you want to do this?" Muzakas eyes hardened with seriousness, but thankfully the fingers stayed soothingly at his neck. "I really want you to be sure if we're going to keep doing this. That bite I gave you is a promise, that you can rely on me, trust me. I need you to understand that."

"I understand." He let out a sigh of relief at having been seemingly forgiven. "I-I really want it."

Standing slowly, he let his urges once again guide his body, arms wrapping around Muzaka, wanting to press as close as their bodies would allow.

"Please, Muzaka."

O000ooo0000

Muzaka all but hefted M-21 back to his house, a lone comfortable cabin settled deep in the woods that Crombell had gifted to him after his resurrection. Lush greenery grew uninhibited around beige wood, almost burying the house beneath an ardent grave of vines and roots. It really was just how Muzaka preferred his living situation to be, and the fact that he could bring someone here, into his home, meant more to him than most would understand.

Placing M-21 down on gray sheets that smelled faintly of lavender, Muzaka took the time to appreciate the image his lover made. Eyes lidded with lust and cheeks dusted a rosy pink, Muzaka really could just stare all day at the man beneath him. He was something special, truly.

Tentative lips found M-21's neck, tongue darting out to lick just beneath the collar of his suit before fingers took to swiftly unbuttoning the article of clothing. M-21 whined at the lack of contact, spurring Muzaka on in his challenge of ridding him of that unnecessary shirt and jacket.

If Muzaka had his way M-21 would be exempt from clothing. A body like that deserved to be appreciated and he had every intention of doing just that.

Flinging off his own shirt and tossing it halfheartedly to the same corner where M-21's top was thrown as well, Muzaka kissed him, hard. It was open mouthed and so deliciously needy as tongue met tongue, adventurously exploring one another while hands carved sensuous paths into skin.

There was too much stimulation at once and M-21 again marveled at how completely sinful the man atop him was. Almost to convey how much their makeout session(it really was more of them attempting to devour one another at this point) was turning him on, M-21 hooked his arms around Muzaka, bringing him even closer, and brought his hips up to meet the other mans clothed erection.

He purred with pride as Muzaka moaned heatedly into the kiss, only to find himself hissing with pleasure as hands encircled his waist in a vice like grip and ground down onto his own cock. Again and again, hips gyrated against one another and after a while, neither of them could really discern who was making what sound.

It was bliss, being like this beneath a man who could so easily and effortlessly crush him if he so desired, but instead chose to run those powerful hands under the front of his jeans to stroke M-21's hardened member. He bucked up into the touch just as Muzaka sucked at his bottom lip, oh god this was so good.

"Muzaka" he panted, saliva running down his chin from the sloppy, wonderful kiss. "I want more."

The werewolf lord breathlessly chuckled. "Don't you want to enjoy me preparing you, M? You get to sit back and watch while I give you everything you want and then some."

He thumbed the tip of M-21's penis, causing him to twitch as precum spilled out. Thinking it was high time those damned pants were taken off, Muzaka quite literally tore them off, only barely refraining from shredding them in his haste. And once he got rid of those boxers, a beautifully flushed, raised cock encircled by a shock of silver hair, greeted him.

He licked his lips hungrily and watched as it twitched in need that matched its owners breathy pleads for more. Wanting to cherish the moment though, he trailed slow kisses up M-21's inner thigh. Stopping occasionally to suck on the sweat slicked skin there.

Instead of going straight for want he wanted, Muzaka licked, sucked, and bit his way around it, tongue making its way towards his navel.

"Muzaka" M-21 bit out, lust and irritation obvious. "Please just fuck me already, I want you."

Muzaka raised his head along with a single, questioning brow.

M-21 met his curious stare with a stubborn and undeniably bossy one, causing Muzaka to laugh endearingly. This man seriously was way more interesting then was good for him.

Leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to the scowling mans lips, he reached towards the nightstand at the corner of his bed to grab the bottle of lube stashed in the topmost drawer, squeezing gracious amounts of the chilled liquid onto his waiting hand. Once again bringing his mouth to the inviting lips parted and begging for entrance, he wrapped his slicked up hand around M-21's cock and began stroking him with varying degrees of pressure in an attempt to warm up the lube.

"If y-you keep that up I'm gonna cum before we get to the exciting parts."

"Eh, this isn't exciting?" A harsh squeeze had M-21 seeing stars.

"Not the exciting I'm looking for right now."

With a sharp laugh that almost sounded like a bark, Muzaka begrudgingly released his cock and brought his fingers to M-21's anus, teasing the ring of muscle mischievously as it quivered.

"You really must want my cock," he grinned cheekily.

"Ughhhhh, you seriously need to shut up." M-21 groaned. "Let's just get on with the whole fucking part."

"You really are no fun, M'" A finger pushed in without warning, causing M-21 to gasp at the weird feeling of having something up his ass. "Scratch that, you are a whole lot of interesting."

"Shut-" Muzaka captured M-21's mouth with his own, effectively silencing the man.

M-21 didn't know how long he lay there, only able to moan, gasp, and twitch as Muzaka finger fucked him. Gradually adding more and more digits until the burning sensation abated, Muzaka soothed away the general discomfort with kisses made like a drowning man desperate for air. His fingers were long enough that they often brushed against his prostate and the bastard even had the gull to grin as M-21 continued to cry out.

"M-Muzaka, hurry u-AHN!" Muzaka purposely hit the mans sweet spot mid sentence, and watching the way he writhed, decided it was finally time to get on with it.

Leaning in, he whispered seductively. "Don't worry, M, I'll take good care of you."

Divesting himself of his jeans, he grasped at his own hardened cock, stroking it to slick the thing up. He wanted to make M-21 as comfortable as possible, and damn if it wasn't fun to watch him squirm too while he took the time to prepare.

Poised at his entrance, Muzaka stared heatedly into M-21's eyes questioningly, his answer coming in the form of anticipation, lust and fondness residing there. Pushing in, he groaned as he felt that tight heat wrap around him, making him shiver with the need to pound into his lover, to bite, mark, and cherish. Trying to wait and quell the monster that screamed at him to take what he knew both of them wanted, he nipped softly at M-21's lips, trying to convey that he wanted to kiss, to which the younger man gladly obliged.

It was so incredible to be intimate with someone like M-21, beautifully sculpted body putty in his skilled hands. Even just the act of kissing, something while he was good at he didn't particularly care for, sent jolts of electricity careening through him. It was thrilling, having such a pliant mouth mold so entirely to his own.

He really did want more.

It started slow at first, short, shallow thrusts that had M-21 moving his hips to meet Muzaka. Before the two of them knew it, M-21 linked his legs around Muzakas back to force his thrusts deeper, screaming his name in ecstasy whenever he hit that spot.

"Muzaka faster!" He begged. "Please!"

"Fuck M'" He let loose a throaty growl, giving into his lovers request with enthusiasm. "I want to pound you into this bed right now."

"What are you waiting for then?" He grinned. "Don't tell me you're having performance anxiety now."

"Ohh, your such a cheeky lil shit. You asked for it M'."

Putting the barest amounts of power into his next thrust, he vaguely managed to hear what he thought was the beds headboard striking the wall with the sharp crack of wood and plaster following. But he was entirely too focused on M-21, who had his head thrown back and chanting his name. The raised bite mark called to him, made him feel so utterly pleased that he had marked him. In return, his own body called for M-21, wanted to be his and his alone.

Almost as if hearing Muzakas thoughts, M-21 wrapped his arms around the mans back, face nestling into his shoulder.

"M'," He panted. "You don't have t-"

Dragging his tongue over the juncture where shoulder and neck met, Muzaka felt such an overwhelming sense of need. M-21 gave a testing, cautious nip, tasting the flesh, and was rewarded with a thrust powerful enough to break the wall and have his vision go white.

Ohh, he really liked making Muzaka loose control.

Continually kneading the skin with his teeth, M-21 felt that familiar coil tighten in the pit of his stomach. He was so so close, and based on Muzakas broken yet forceful thrusts, so was he.

"Fuck M, I'm gonna cum!"

That was his cue.

M-21 bit with abandon, teeth breaking skin and the taste of iron bleeding onto his tongue. Even as they came, Muzaka filling him with his seed, and even as they lay side by side, wrapped around one another while basking in the afterglow, M-21 couldn't keep the content, sleepy smile off his face.

For the first time since M-24's death, he didn't feel so alone.

0o0o0


	4. The festival that nears

A/n; I've edited this chapter and changed things. The most important being the part where M-21 feels like Muzaka doesn't really care because he's half human. I re read that and realized it went against how I was writing these two. So I fixed that. There will most definitely be drama and feels, but in a way that stays true to how I've characterized them and flows well with the story.

Inky blackness poured itself over the quiet forest, plentiful specks of light that hung in the sky glistening like warm drops of honey. It was a calm evening in this ardent paradise, lush trees encasing a village that seemed an amalgam of time periods with its quaint cabins, humble shacks along with the rare building buzzing with electricity. It was the home of a handful of Orion's pack as well as being the head of her operations, built to protect the family and safe haven she had worked so painstakingly to create.

Behind her desk Orion, the longstanding alpha and founder of the village, attempted to wrangle the mountain of papers that wobbled precariously under her attentive touch. Dealing with basic logistics and the general shit storm that was Were-politics was a tiring but necessary evil that never failed to make Orion want to rip her hair out.

"So how's that request you wanted for more funding from the council going, any luck?" Baby blue eyes questioned from beneath a mop of unruly red curls, rough face softened with familiarity as Lucy asked.

Orion gave her lover an irate huff. "No, that bastard Maduke has all but relocated what was supposed to be our money to more 'productive matters of interest', what ever the hell that even means."

"What about those of the council we have sway with, couldn't they help organize a vote to continue our programs? They owe us."

"That's what I've been doing, but Maduke has over-ruled any possibility of an official vote occurring, at this point the council is becoming more of a dictatorship than the supposed democracy they say it is. Which isn't surprising. It's only because of the few favors I've pulled that I've managed to get any funds for our programs. But even as it is, we're going to have to cut some of them."

Orion glared vitrol at the stacks of paper, practically willing them to spontaneously combust, before staring down at her own hand, skin a deep brown and kissed with a myriad of pale scars and callouses. Anger was something she had become very familiar with these past few hundred years, especially after the disappearance of Muzaka.

Speaking of Muzaka...

"Any word from our favorite sleeping beauty." Orion asked, it had been some time since Muzaka had sent a letter informing her of his return and they had begun corresponding after the many centuries following his disappearance. She was worried for her friend.

"Funny you should ask." Reaching into her green cloak, Lucy fished out a plain looking envelope. "I received this a few hours ago, it's addressed to you of course."

Reaching for the letter, Orion felt a heavy sense of relief seep into her bones at hearing from the eccentric werewolf lord. It was comforting to know that the man she'd gladly give her life for, gladly walk into hell for, and one she had greatly mourned, was alive and well and with friends.

He needed more friends in Orion's opinion, what with the majority of his own species outright terrified by the mere mention of his name.

Deftly using a pointed nail to rip a fine line at the topmost part of the inconspicuous looking envelope, she plucked out the letter within, fingers finding the edge of the crinkled paper. It's contents were...surprising to say the least. So much so that Orion read it over twice to make sure she hadn't misread something.

Well consider her gobsmacked.

"So.." She turned to Lucy, who was trying her best to seem aloof and uninterested and failing miserably to staunch the curiosity that bled from her weathered features. "Looks like Muzaka wants to come with us to the upcoming festival..."

Her lovers eyes widened comically. "He can't be serious. It's far too soon for him to make an official appearance before the council, especially when he's still so reliant on that Crombell person."

"It seems that he is in agreement with you, as he doesn't want to yet make it publicly known he's still alive."

"Then why does he want to go to the festival at all?! It's far too risky.

Indeed, why did Muzaka want to go through with what he had specified. In his letter he had mentioned that he had taken an unaligned wolf, who had only lived within the humans world, under his wing and wanted to introduce him to werewolf culture via the festival.

Muzaka always was one to put the entirety of his being into protecting those he mentored and cared for, that was nothing new. But to insist that he come along to ensure the mystery wolfs safety? Even despite the fact that doing so could very well put him and whoever assisted him at risk?

A sudden realization dawned on Orion as she glanced at Lucy, drinking in her lovers presence like it was one of those intoxicating cocktails her favorite bartender made, the ones she slammed back after a stressful day. Lucy, this rugged, tough as nails woman, was undoubtedly the most important thing in her life.

She had been there from the beginning of that beaten, yet wondrous path that seemed to stretch beyond expectation. Lucy was her rock, a hand that easily engulfed her own always there to steady Orion's steps and keep her grounded. However corny it sounded(and Lucy always told her it really was), to her, Lucy was a beam of light that pierced its way through any black miasma that threatened to overwhelm Orion.

For her lover, she would readily do anything. She would even give her the world and the stars if she could.

"Ah, I think... I understand why he wants to watch over that man."

Lucy cocked her head to the side in a silent query.

"That's probably his mate."

-0000000-

Dinner in Frankensteins' household was usually a boisterous affair, the sharp 'clack clack' of silverware against porcelain chiming in tandem with peals of genuine laughter, and tonight was no exception. Everyone, Muzaka included, patiently waited with anticipation as Seira and Regis, both donning those salmon colored aprons with pride, gracefully placed delectable dish after dish directly in the center of the table for everyone to plate their own food.

"Y'know Ikhan has really been pushing hard for more computer lessons." Tao, ever the conversation starter, spoke between hurried mouthfuls. "Like, seriously, the kid is really getting good, especially with hacking. He has a natural talent for it. I'm thinking of going to more difficult lessons, maybe teach him how to get in and out of systems undetected."

"Tao, Please refrain from making my student into a villainous mastermind." Frankenstein sighed. "I would rather not have to deal with the paperwork should things go wrong."

"But Boss, think of all the things we could accomplish! With Ikhan, the RK-5 could totally rule the world!"

"Beyond being completely unethical, your whole plan is full of holes." Regis interjected, warily watching as the hacker gestured wildly with excitement as he spoke. "You can't claim world domination with just hacking and a few fighters."

"Ehhh, well if you have any better ideas I'm open to suggestions."

As Regis and Tao hammered out the finer points of dominion over the world, or at the very least Korea, and M-21 engaged Seira and Takeo in a riveting conversation on the practical application of calculated smart ass remarks during battle, Muzaka lounged back and enjoyed the scene before him. He was happy, and even more than that exceedingly content, that they had allowed him to be a part of this family.

Looking to Rai, who listened to Frankenstein regaling his travels with a childish sort of wonder, Muzaka couldn't help but feel greatful too. He understood Rai more than most, just as the man knew him, he was well acquainted with the chasm of loneliness and despair that came with holding power and how people came to view you just as the abilities you held rather than a complete, whole person. They were both so used to being alone and feared, that were you to tell them those many years ago that there would be a time where they could sit down at a table with people who couldn't care one way or another how strong their powers were, they would've looked at you like you were crazy.

Muzaka had to hand it to the snarky peacock, despite the mans extensive propensity to hold grudges, he really had built a wonderful place for Rai.

A glance at M-21 cracking a wry grin at Takeo and Seira and he had to correct himself, Frankenstein had not only made a safe and loving home for Rai, but for everyone here as well. These people knew all to well the cruelty and indifference the world offered, forced into being tools or having to maintain the mask of perfection to even be considered worthy, but here they were just people. Sure, they all had a checkered past, but they were a family.

A pack.

"Why Muzaka, I'm afraid if you smile any more than you are you'll scare everyone off." Frankenstein quipped, snapping Muzaka out of his reverie. "Care to share your thoughts with the rest of us?"

Muzaka blinked at Frankenstein, hand going to his jaw to confirm that he was indeed grinning a fond, dry smile. Wow, he didn't even notice.

"Ah, I was just thinking of...uh...stuff."

"Stuff, I see how illuminating." Frankensteins voice dripped sarcasm, but it wasn't that frigid, outright scary tone he reserved for people who hurt his children and fucked over his master, it was almost fond. Almost.

"Yeah, stuff. We can't all be as brilliant as you always are." He huffed playfully. "Us normal people over here just can't compare."

Frankenstein snorted. "I never thought the word normal would ever be used to describe you. More obnoxious and loud, I think that suits you far better."

"And if I had to describe you it would be an obsessive, neurotic peacock. With a fetish for cleaning supplies."

They glared halfheartedly at one another for a long moment, both trying to maintain their composure and staunch the humor that threatened to crack their unamused masks. It only took a few moments before they both were quaking with laughter, their banter amusing the two far more than it admittedly should.

Rai softly smiled and sighed at their antics while their laughter was admittedly infectious, everyone at the table unable to avoid donning a smile or chuckling. It was enjoyable.

The rest of the meal passed without much fanfare, and as if to get Muzaka back for the cleaning supply comment, Frankenstein assigned him the illustrious job of washing dishes. Who ever thought the all powerful werewolf lord would be washing dishes while wearing a pink apron and gloves.

Oh well, he shrugged, washing dishes wasn't too terrible of a task. Just add that lemon smelling soap to the plate, scrub as gently as possible as to not break more of Frankensteins dishes than was necessary, rinse and repeat. Fairly simple.

It helped quite a bit that M-21 was subsequently subjected to dish duty and could instruct him on how much pressure was needed to get the damned fragile things clean without destroying them. It certainly saved Muzaka from feeling Frankensteins murderous gaze striking his back like daggers made from the mans dark spear.

Muzaka shuddered, he really hated that thing.

Returning his full attention to scrubbing, he couldn't help but feel a little relieved that M-21 was the one helping him. He was fun to talk to and crack jokes with, the younger man had a sarcastic wit to rival his own. And that was saying something.

"So I talked to my friend, Orion, about taking you to the festival." He spoke after a fair bit of silence, remember the letter he had received not long ago. "She said we were welcome to stay in her territory until the time comes to make the trip to the celebration grounds. After that it shouldn't be too hard to blend in, but if anyone questions us she said we can claim were apart of her pack."

M-21 looked surprised at the mention of the festival, caught completely unaware at the topic they had discussed awhile ago, he hadn't thought Muzaka was actually serious in wanting to take him. But apparently he was.

"Why do we have to claim we're part of her pack, who the hell would even care?"

"People would care because unaligned or packless Wolves aren't allowed, and if it's found out you don't have a pack, well... Let's just say it's not a pleasant fate." Muzaka scowled. "Orion has informed me that the council has taken to enforcing that rule in recent years. Who knows what Maduke is thinking with that, but really, the main reason is because I don't exactly want to make it known that I'm alive just yet, and this is the easiest way to sneak in unnoticed."

"That sounds like a lot of danger for just taking me to a festival."

"It's not just a festival though M'." Muzaka passed him another washed plate to dry. "You're a werewolf and you've never experienced your own culture, or even had that opportunity. I want you to feel included in your own race and I want to be the one to show you the amazing things our species has accomplished."

M-21 couldn't help but smile as, throughout their shared chore, Muzaka continued to talk of all the amazing things he wanted to show him. His excited rant was pretty endearing.

Definitely made washing dishes a lot more interesting at the very least.

-000000-

Night time was admittedly when Muzaka thrived, there was something about the endless expanse of darkened sky that made him feel apart of something bigger. Ever since he was a kit that sloppily stumbled over his own paws trying to run, he knew that somewhere beneath the stars, someone like him, whose close companion was isolation, was looking up too. As long as he had the sky, he was never completely alone.

Now that he had built a pack once again in the form of M-21 and his family, Muzaka still couldn't help but yearn for the night sky. He didn't however want to wake said man, who was curled into his side and sleeping rather fitfully. It seemed his dreams were ones that not even the warmth Muzaka provided could help him outrun.

All he could do was soothingly run his fingers through M-21's hair, fingers carefully unknotting silver strands as they went, and hum old lullabies that left his throat like the faint rustle of leaves in the dry summer wind. Still though, the man flinched in terror regardless of the soft touches, whimpered with fear and scrunched his face in pain.

The bite on Muzakas neck, a permanent manifestation of the promise they had made, throbbed with worry over M-21s shivering form. Cradling the younger mans sweat slicked body close, he coaxed him awake with gentle shakes until slate grey eyes, thick with sleep, fluttered open.

For a long while M-21 simply lay there in Muzakas arms, mind still reeling from nightmares of the past that had their claws firmly dug into his subconscious. To Muzakas relief, his mind seemed to finally adjust to the present as his breathing evened out. It seemed M-21 was awake enough to be away from whatever he was chasing him.

"'M'tired ." M-21 slurred. "Why'd ya wake me?"

"You were having a nightmare." He muttered softly. "It's okay though, you can go back to sleep now."

M-21 hummed in acknowledgement, body wriggling as he tried to settle into a more comfortable position. "Thank ya for takin care of me."

"Anytime." He placed a chaste kiss on his forehead forehead. "Now get some more rest, you have work tommorow."

As M-21 fell back into the lull of sleep, features softened in unperturbed slumber, Muzaka couldn't fight the yawn that surfaced. Now that M-21 was no longer being assaulted by nightmares, Muzaka too felt safe, safer than he had been in a very long time.

Gradually closing his eyes he focused on the warmth that curled around him, the strong beat of M-21's heart against his own, bare chest. It was a wonder that he could feel so completely calm, not in his own home but under Frankensteins household of all places.

With one last smile, he made a promise to himself, and to the sleeping man, that no matter what happened in these coming days, he would protect M-21 with all he had.

It may not be enough, but it was all he had to give. And give he would.

-000000-


	5. Little talks

There was something thrilling about the prospect of pitting oneself against a person of considerable strength, an aspect of battle only enhanced by a friendly spar between comrades. When the punches actually struck home and they could engage each other without fear of imminent death, M-21 found it quite exciting. The heady ache in his muscles from being pushed and tested was enjoyable, just as much so the exchange of blows between him and Regis.

As his hit landed, striking Regis square in the stomach, M-21 languidly leapt away, trying to get the advantage of having a fair amount of space to maneuver. Though it hardly seemed it from an outside perspective, Regis packed a hell of an amount of power behind those tiny fists. But as much as his strength was something to watch out for, he tended to be predictable in his strategy.

Regis was noble, in every sense of the word. He lived his life as straightforwardly as possibly, honesty and pride as close to him as Takeo and his guns. Regis fought honest too, blunt and sometimes predictable to someone with considerable battle experience.

Still he could kick M-21's ass regardless, but he was incredibly proud that Regis was slowly but surely becoming both stronger and slyer. The two challenged one another like no one else.

This time M-21 let the noble come at him first, taking advantage of Regis's still present reluctance to use dirty tactics by feinting to the right to avoid an oncoming fist before grabbing the nobles tiny wrists and heaving his body to flip Regis and slam him to the ground. 

Beyond letting out an indignant yelp, he didn't concede defeat. In fact, Regis, in a wholly uncharacteristic but surprisingly cool moment(not that M-21 would ever tell him that), used the back of his head to forcefully headbutt M-21, following through with a sharp elbow to the gut. M-21, wide eyed, was catapulted off Regis, nose bloody and stomach aching.

M-21 grinned through the injuries, already feeling the familiar tingle of mending muscle. The brats improvement was terrifying sometimes, whatever happened during his private training sessions was obviously working.

But M-21 was nothing if not stubborn and even more so he refused to lose their bet; conceding that first to fall takes on the others chore load for a week. He really wanted to win a weeklong break. Also to beat Regis. That was definitely a motivator.

M-21 remembered the first few spars they ever had, Regis had wiped the floor with the trio with infuriating ease. But the more they trained together, the more all four of them improved, and the more they grew as a team, they were on much more equal ground. Even more importantly they became friends encouraging one another to grow.

"You're becoming predictable M-21." Regis snarked, dodging the hits thrown at him.

M-21 laughed as they continued to fight, dancing around one another in a flurry of blurred punches and kicks. The ache in his body was steadily becoming more prominent and M-21 knew he had to end it soon. At least Regis looked just as exhausted, chest heaving from exertion.

Channeling the remaining traces of energy that his body was using to heal into his fist, arm tensing up as a shocking rush of power coursed through it, M-21 barreled toward Regis. Time slowed as M-21's body moved like liquid and the energy he'd gathered roared against his fine control, veins pulsing angrily against skin while silver fur pricked out and jagged claws bit into the flesh of his fist.

The strength and pure aggression came so suddenly and unexpectedly that M-21 had no time to direct his hit away from Regis, who blocked M-21 and was flung across the room.

Even making a dent in the wall from the sheer force of being thrown.

"Regis!" M-21 shouted, arm still transformed as he dashed in a panic to where Regis lay unmoving.

Guilt and worry were a vice that suffocated his lungs as he fell to his knees before the bloodied young noble. Placing his ear against Regis's chest, he gratefully confirmed Regis was indeed breathing and after feeling around, noted that the injuries he'd maintained were already healing.

"Regis c'mon." M-21 hissed, gently patting his cheek. "Please don't make me get Frankenstein."

To M-21's relief, Regis's brow twitched, followed by a subtle quirk of the mouth and the fluttering of his lids. Within moments he was already moving to sit up, hand palming the back of his head and coming away stained with red.

"I didn't expect you to hit so hard."

"I didn't either." M-21 frowned. "I honestly wasn't trying to put that much power behind that last punch."

Regis glared at him sourly as if he were joking.

"I'm serious," M-21 defended, attempting to make his tone sincere, "I was pretty sure I didn't put much power into that hit."

"That's strange, usually you have to really go for it to get a strike like that. These red normally some buildup." Regis paused, lips pursed in thought. "Maybe you've gotten stronger without realizing it?"

Surprise and anxiety settled into the pit of M-21's stomach as he tried to swallow the idea of having his power so suddenly increase without warning. He felt like he should be thrilled at the prospect of getting more power, of being able to stand his own against even stronger foes to protect his pack. But in all honesty, M-21 felt fear.

Once again he was changing, sometimes subtly other times, like now, not. There was no choice in this, not like making an active decision to do something dangerous and probably stupid. Not like avidly knowing and acknowledging what he was getting himself into.

That lack of cognitive choice bothered him.

"Stop getting stuck in your head." Regis scoffed, arms crossed and gaze sharp. "It's incredibly inelegant of you."

"It's not that..."

"Yes it is, you have that look on your face like I've kicked your... what was it. Oh yes, four-legged animal, as the humans say."

M-21 almost laughed at Regis's miserably failed attempt at a human metaphor "Since when do you try using human lingo, I thought you were above that."

"Since Shinwoo won't cease his endless chatter of 'dude' and 'I'm too pro'." Regis reached to smooth his own now wrinkled sweat pants, frustration at having his clothes as anything less than perfect apparent. "There's no reason to worry, I'm fine. That was hardly enough to inflict any serious harm."

"Considering you passed out, I'd say I hit you pretty good."

Regis snorted. "Of course you would think that. If you want any of your punches to actually hurt I would suggest more practice."

M-21 smiled at their welcomingly familiar banter, Regis had a very blunt and straightforward way of handling him, and while sometimes it left M-21 increasingly agitated, there were also times when it was the most effective way to address things. Despite both of their cold exteriors, each held genuine affection for the other.

Even if the bean sprout was a certified expert at pissing him off

"Well if you're so confident why don't we have round two. Whoever wins has to do the others chores for two weeks."

"Bring it on."

-00ooo00-

The first thing that stuck out about this place, beyond the human children scurrying around, was the general aura about Ye Ran high school. Throughout the time of Muzakas awakening he took great pleasure in traversing the world around him. From desolate deserts to lands where immaculate concrete towers jutted from yet more concrete and where the electricity was so thick he could practically taste it. Muzaka had seen many places.

This school, as he'd been informed it was called, held a certain elegance that just screamed Frankenstein. It wasn't the building itself, as the construction, while nice, wasn't anything special. It was more the energy that buzzed about the campus that drew his notice, as it was almost intimidating. An almost monstrous amalgam of powers held within its walls bleeding into the very foundation of the school.

He could sense the firm and boisterous imprint of a werewolf, the frigid storm of that pure energy belonging to nobles, the deceptively small yet precisely dangerous presence of those enhanced humans and Frankenstein, in all his fearful glory. Raizel was too good at smothering his power for him to detect outright, but if he tried he could probably find a bit of his friend there too.

To anyone else, it would seem like a normal, inconspicuous school. But the werewolf lord always had a talent for sensing energy.

From his bench, Muzaka reached out as minimally as possible and let his power flare, already tired of waiting for Frankenstein and deciding to just call him out instead. Within a second, Frankenstein appeared in a flash of jet black and soft yellow, mouth fixed in his customary sneer.

"What do you think you're doing?!" He hissed. "You're flaring your power enough to where anyone around here could sense it. We are in hiding you know."

"Ah, sorry about that." Muzaka smiled nervously, avidly trying not to anger Frankenstein more than necessary. "I thought it was a small enough amount to just get your attention. It wasn't my intention to harm your humans."

"You could have just come and knocked on my office door like a civilized being."

"I didn't know if I was allowed in the school." He shrugged.

Muzaka felt rather than saw the icy glare, that man was seriously way too practiced at giving death stares.

"So out with it, what is it you want?"

"Well, you know about the werewolves festival, yeah?"

Frankenstein nodded, expression still impatient.

"It's happening relatively soon and I want to take M-21 with me this year." Muzaka was fully aware of how the blond man tensed at that and hoped he wouldn't have too bad a response. "M-21 already agreed to go and I want him to know more about his culture and learn what it means to be around other wolves. As a species we aren't meant to be without a pack, it goes against our nature. And though he's marked you guys as a sort of makeshift pack, I think it would be good for him to experience a... real one, I suppose."

Quiet settled in the space between the two, a careful, considering one. Muzaka could practically see the gears winding in Frankensteins mind, but his face however was its default mask of irritation. To Muzakas surprise, the other man moved to sit alongside him on the bench, legs elegantly crossed and a hand beneath his chin.

"Why is it you're asking me this if M-21 already gave his consent? It's a moot point honestly, I don't control him. In fact, he's free to do whatever he pleases at any given moment in time."

Muzaka let out a short bark of laughter, throaty and deep with amusement. "You really don't know much about pack dynamics."

"I haven't been around many wolves to begin with, so no." He bit out, agitation coloring his words. "I am not as knowledgable as you may be on the subject."

"Sorry, sorry." Muzaka apologized halfheartedly, still smirking. "I forgot about your sole obsession with nobles. Anyways, the way packs function is that there's an alpha, a leader, who ultimately has the final word in any pertinent decision. When an alpha takes on a partner, that person has equal ruling and jurisdiction as the original alpha."

"I still don't see what this has to do with me."

"To M-21, Raizel is the undisputed alpha," He pointed to Frankenstein, whose eyes went wide as comprehension hit. "which makes you his partner, and therefore if I want to take M-21 out of pack territory, I need your permission to do so."

"I see...well I certainly have no issue with him going if it's his will to do so." Frankenstein paused, drawing his full attention to study the werewolf lord. "I do have some concerns however."

Muzaka inclined his head, politely motioning his hand for him to continue.

"I'm quite well aware how you feel about M-21, and I see the positive effect your interactions with him have, however I also know that werewolves as a whole are quite biased towards humans. Of any sort." Blue eyes hardened and his tone whirled with emotion, that signature intent that clung to Frankensteins words. "I don't want M-21 walking into a situation where he'll be completely rejected by people you assume are going to simply throw away a millennias worth of prejudice and welcome him with open arms."

Muzaka regarded Frankenstein as he listened, watched how his whole manner roared with the intensity of a mother hen fighting for her chicks. He wondered if the blond man knew how parental he had become over those that lived under his roof.

Muzaka still remembered, very clearly in fact, his first interactions with Frankenstein, experiencing him as a prideful man with a fierceness to protect the select few he cared about. Compared to then, the man in front of him now had become sharper and far more deadly, which seemed almost impossible, but also had grown softer in every manner that counted.

Muzaka wondered if he saw the change in himself as easily as he did. Probably not.

"I'm aware of our...prejudice, if you will, against humans. I'm honestly not that sure what it's like today, culturally speaking, but I'm absolutely positive that M-21 won't have do deal with any sort of backlash with Orion's pack." Muzaka rubbed his chin absentmindedly. "Her pack is made of what common were-society considers 'misfits'. Back when I was helping her, she took in what a lot of packs exiled; wolves who were different than the 'norm' if you will."

"Different?" Frankenstein cocked his head to the side, intrigued by the aspect of learning more about a society he knew little to nothing about. He was a scientist after all. "I thought you lot encouraged being different. The wolves Ive met at the least were quite the characters."

"Ha, no. You would think that but especially at the peak of my reign, independence wasn't considered a good thing. There are wolves that didn't fit the common mold.. and we're persecuted because of it."

"That's...terrible."

Muzaka sighed. "Yup, its the nasty underbelly of our culture, or at least was. I have no clue how it is now."

"Hopefully better."

"Orion was the first pack that not only take in these people, but established programs assisting those in need, therapy and otherwise. Such things were ludicrous ideas at the time to many Wolves. Talking about feelings and needing help were heavily taboo in our culture at the time."

"It was the same for the nobles when I resided in Lukedonia, they weren't a fan of feelings or vulnerabilities really.

"Look... I can't promise you much on this journey, as I'm not privy to all the ins and outs of how things are now, but I can promise you this," Looking straight at Frankenstein, almost peering through him to locate that parental anxiety burrowed in his gut, Muzakas tone became rough. "I will protect M-21 with all I have. I haven't had such a good track record with protecting those I care about, but I will protect him with all I have."

Frankenstein regarded the werewolf lord in this... dare he say, emotional conversation. He recognized the mans strong will to protect, had seen it in the many times during his visits with master. How Muzaka dedicated himself to the people he cherished. But he was also aware of the pain that had befallen him, how every relationship had crumbled despite his best efforts to keep them alive and well.

Having that nagging thought in the back of ones head that they could keep nothing and no one safe, that they could only destroy, Frankenstein was well acquainted with that.

For a brief moment, he couldn't say he hated Muzaka. Hated what he did? Yes. Hated the choices he'd made? Most definitely. But not the man himself.

He understood the fear the werewolf lord must have felt in taking M-21 under his wing, just as he also felt assured that no matter what, Muzaka wouldn't hurt the man Frankenstein had come to view as his child.

That was what really mattered in the end. Wasn't it?

"We got a bit off topic, but back to your original question yes, I give you my permission to take M-21 to the festival." Standing up, Frankenstein patted away the dust he was sure had accumulated on his clothes, as public benches were not exactly sanitary. "I'm positive it will be a good experience for the both of you."

He could feel Muzakas wide eyed gazed, shocked and probably equal measure pleased, burrowing into him.

Looking back, Frankenstein gave Muzaka a soft smile and before his pride could allow him to feel embarrassed, walked away. The soles of his shoes making no sound against the black top as he retreated to the confines of his office, almost gliding across the school yard.

For the first time in a long while, Frankenstein found himself praying. Something he hadn't done since the now almost far away dark days when he'd scoured the earth for his beloved Master.

To whom or which deity, he didn't know. All he was certain of was that he hoped this venture into the realm of the werewolves would be good for M-21.

OoooOOOooooO

Stillness reigned over the quiet landscape, serene in its solace from modern society as warm wind cascaded over lush grass. Muzakas cabin was a respite away from the insanity of highly populated cities, where the scent of concrete and people had all but burned itself into M-21's nostrils. He had found some peace in this surprising little hideaway that looked like something straight out of a fairy tail.

M-21 had no clue when exactly this place had come to mean safety to him, just as similar to his packs household, but regardless, he had to admit that he felt strangely comfortable here.

Muzaka had invited him to his home whenever he needed to ride out what he'd now been informed was a 'heat cycle'. The werewolf lord still helping educate him so as to recognize the warning signs before things progressed to a dangerous point, given that there was no linear path of when they struck.

They happened when they happened and M-21 was trying to be accepting of that fact.

He sat patiently, and somewhat awkwardly, in the plain, generic living room as he waited for Muzaka to return. Neglecting to call ahead, M-21 had rushed to his cabin as soon as his stomach rolled with that familiar burn, only to find the house empty.

Muzaka would return soon, wouldn't he?

Absentmindedly, he reached a hand to rub at his neck to ease the tension, only to have his hips jutting upwards in need and a yelp escaping him from the feeling of cloth rubbing against the still sensitive bite mark. Desire slithered beneath M-21's skin, having him writhing breathlessly on the chilled leather of the couch.

"Muzaka." M-21 hissed through gritted teeth, not sure if he was cursing the man or wanting him to be the one palming his semi erect cock through the material of his pants. "You fucker."

His felt like his nerves were exposed, sensitive and over worked. M-21 had wanted to wait for his partner to...assist him, but it seemed like it was now time to take matters into his own hands.

Literally.

Settling into the chilled leather that felt like ice against his overheated body, he unbuttoned his jeans, small buttons proving difficult to grasp with shaking fingers, and slipped out of his slacks. He really didn't want to get any bodily fluids on his work clothes.

M-21 started slow at first, almost gentle in regards to him. Eyes locked on his hand, grasping his own cock and deliberately pumping it, he felt somewhat dirty. Jacking off on Muzakas couch while the man himself wasn't here. Absolutely scandalous one might say.

Maybe that was why it felt so satisfying.

Closing his eyes, M-21 threw back his head, savoring each stroke and trying to commit the feeling to memory. The only thing that would feel even better, even more enticing, would be a warm mouth replacing his hand. Going up and down the shaft, sucking.

A jolt of electricity shot down his spine and struck straight to his groin, making him thrust into his own grip. He could practically imagine Muzaka between his thighs, those purple eyes full of mischief and desire as he kissed his way up M-21's inner thigh. Knowing him, probably biting and nibbling at the skin just to wind him up more.

The werewolf lord was good at that.

His hand sped up, hips bucking to get more friction. It was dizzying the rush of feelings he experienced, and M-21 could no longer hold his voice in, breathy moans and expletives spilling from his lips.

All he could think about was Muzaka. Muzakas mouth on his cock, taking him down to the base and teasingly running his nails over taut muscle. Muzaka being his commanding, over confident self, but being so sincere and gentle at the same time, wanting M-21 to feel nothing but loved. Muzaka playing with his hair until he fell asleep against his chest, humming ancient lullabies that sounded achingly familiar.

His smile-

"Well damn. You could've at least waited for me."

Eye shooting open, M-21 found Muzaka standing in the doorway, gaze dark and considering.

"Um..." Realizing his hand was still on his cock, M-21 quickly let it go, face and body burning. "Welcome home?"

Muzaka laughed. "It's definitely one hell of a welcome."

Sauntering over to the couch, Muzaka threw himself next to M-21, arm wrapped over his shoulder and thighs touching. His hand found itself entangled in silver, soothing and stimulating as the werewolf lord played with his hair.

"Don't let me stop you M'." He growled into M-21's ear. "I was really enjoying the show."

If it were possible to die of embarrassment, M-21 was sure he'd be six feet under by this point. It wasn't so much having Muzaka walk in on him that made him feel nervous, the opposite really, but more that he had lost some modicum of control and someone had been there to witness it.

Again.

"Um..." He didn't know what to say honestly. As much as the burn in his stomach blazed, he felt like the mood had been forcibly ripped out of him. M-21 was still new to this...relationship thing. And though his partner had seen the diversity of aspects within himself, he couldn't quite shake the feeling of discomfort. Of shame.

He shouldn't have felt this way with Muzaka, the man had fucked him quite a few times by now. But still, it was so new. So much uncharted territory.

"Hey M', we don't have to do this if you don't want to. We can just relax tonight." Picking up on M-21's discomfort, Muzaka kept his tone soft. "It's not a big deal."

"But my heat..." He whispered. "I can't just stop..it'll get worse."

"We can relax for a bit and if you feel more up to it we can continue." Muzaka brought him close, squeezing him softly. "That sound good?"

Lids fluttering closed, M-21 felt such tangible relief. That Muzaka didn't push him, that he cared enough and understood enough to work with M-21. If he were being honest, it reminded him when he first began living with Frankenstein and Rai. That absolute confusion of being treated like a person. Like having people respect his feelings.

It was nice.

"That sounds good." He gave a hesitant smile. "Can I put my pants on now?"

Jovial laughter filled the room in response. 


	6. Atrocities and broken beds

It was a sterile world beneath the pads of his fingers, chilled machines that squeaked and whined always a comforting companion in the preferred isolation of his communication hub. Screens, large and various in number, continually projected a variety of meaningful images at a speed only Crombell himself could keep up with. Reclining in his chair, his throne, he felt at home. Like for once he could breathe comfortably in his self assured omnipotence.

Everything was as it should be, according to the incoming stream of data. In this space, he was a god, able to alter the course of reality as he deemed necessary with the mere press of a button. Being able to take hold of something finite and disgustingly fragile and morph that same thing into a superior being that transcended the barriers of mortality was Crombells specialty.

Everyone in the Union knew this. Recognized it begrudgingly even, to his utmost pleasure. Those arrogant wolves and nobles looking down at his skill only long enough for him to completely surpass any and all of their 'smartest and most experienced' scientists.

It was always such a transcendent experience to watch the realization that a human, not just any human but Crombell himself, could prove them wrong. Make them regret ever turning their noses up at humanity.

It was quite a burden, but one he graciously bore.

For the furthering of humanity after all.

Slicing into his peace, a flashing alert appeared on his screen, blaring light dousing the dark room in a sea of red. With the flick of his wrist, he brought up the ip adress of his caller, the completely false address, one stating the callers whereabouts in New York, took but a minute to pinpoint and correct to the legitimate one.

Crombell remarked at their idiocy as he read through the information, these wolves were getting better at concealing their locations but not good enough. Having him go through a handful of random proxies only to decipher his way through their shoddy masking programs.

Finally assuring the identity of his caller, he accepted the video feed. Hand attempting to conceal the wide grin that made him look a tad bit more unprofessional than he'd like.

"Why if it isn't Lord Maduke, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Face stoic as ever, Maduke appeared as he always did. "I have the incoming shipment of... volunteers that you requested for this new project of yours."

"I take it these volunteers are just as willing as the last."

"I don't give you subjects for you to question my methods Crombell." Eyes narrowed, Maduke channeled all his distaste into his otherwise placid expression. He was good at that. "You use them for the furthering of both of our respective species."

"You seem to have misunderstood me Lord." He flashed a saccharine, kind smile, knowing it would make the werewolf irate. "I don't question your way of gathering volunteers for the cause. In fact it's quite fun, those you give me. They are always so stubborn. So sure of themselves. When they break it yields the best and most entertaining results."

Crombell intended for his matter of fact statement to ensure a negative reaction from Maduke, but alas, no such luck. The insufferable man remained unfazed, an unfaltering mask of professionalism that only barely let past the disdain he held for humans.

Oh well, let the dense werewolf lord believe he held the better hand, that he was in control. It was much easier to use him that way, to move him wherever he needed him to be. Especially when Crombell held all the cards.

Speaking of cards...

"I do have some information on Muzaka, Lord Maduke." Crombell enjoyed the werewolfs subtle tensing of muscles, body hyper focused on the meek human he detested. "My informants tell me that he will be joining this years festival."

"I'm aware."

He was aware? Well that was unexpected. Maybe for the best honestly, if he wanted to enact this little test run of his, adding Maduke as another variable could be quite interesting.

"Speaking of," Maduke thin scowl cut even deeper than usual. "my sources inform me an old experiment of yours is expected to accompany him. One that, despite your assurances of him being too weak to be of consequence, is currently on par with some of my warriors, the weaker ones it may be. But the point here is that he has become quite the problem. Despite your urging otherwise."

Crombell leaned forward in his seat, thrown at the mention of M-21. He wasn't aware of Muzakas affiliation with his old pet, but once again the added interaction meant there was even more to gain than first anticipated.

"It wasn't by my hand that he was allowed to grow stronger." He stated. "He's currently working with the noblesse, which is how I assume he was even able to defy my calculations. I'm rarely wrong you know."

"If this M-21 is working with the noblesse, and is also being supported by Muzaka, then it's a reasonable assumption that both Muzaka and the Noblesse are also working together." Folding his hands and placing them beneath his chin, Maduke became contemplative. "This could become a serious issue Crombell. I'm certain of our chances against Muzaka, but against the noblesse? Who is now also working with the nobles? I don't like those odds, I'm not looking for a war."

"Well" Crombell said after a moment. "If we obtain M-21 and Muzaka, we could use them as leverage against the noblesse to turn himself in. Without alerting the rest of the nobles."

"And why in the world do you think he'd do that?"

"Because based on my data, the noblesse...cares for him. Believe it or not. Will go to great lengths to keep his men safe."

"I see." Maduke pointedly looked at him. "I take it you want me to send you both men then."

"Yes Lord. If I can use both Muzaka and M-21 against the noblesse, then we can obtain all three. Imagine the possibilities in furthering the limits of wolves and humans. It's practically endless."

"Fine, I can agree to turning both men over on one condition."

"Anything Lord."

"I want you to make Muzaka suffer. Make him feel more pain than anything he has ever experienced, and when he finally asks why you're doing this, make it known how much of a traitor he is to his own. Brand it onto his very soul. He failed us and now he must reap what he sowed. And when the breath he takes is his very last, I want it to be my hand that extinguishes his pitiful life."

"Of course Lord." The smile that was once kind, deceivingly so, grew manic, violent. "As they say, 'thy will be done'."

oooOOOooo

It's was a horrendously fast paced day for Orion, traversing from territory to territory in search of favors to cash in for her pack. She still was in need of a trainer for their warriors as well as the daunting task of managing the few assistance programs and medical centers she had somehow managed to keep alive.

The main issue however was that legally doing so, at least getting the necessary qualified professionals from the larger packs, required a vote within the council. One which Maduke had already convinced the majority of the leaders wasn't a necessity. That they needed to relocate assets to more important avenues of interest.

Such bullshit

Finally arriving at the building where Orion's central office was, a heavy sense of relief washed over her. The familiar worn structure, with its concrete and wood that worked together in tandem, created a space that felt so much like her own. As a pack leader, and even more specifically an alpha of the smallest of the twelve packs on the council, she didn't exactly have much to her name.

Orion belonged to her people, body and soul. Everything she did was for the wellbeing of her pack, her family.

The only selfish thing she had done had been to accompany Lucy in exile from their original home, and still she had yet to regret that particular decision.

Walking through the polished oak door, she was unsurprised to find four hooded figures, each practically invisible to prying wolves scouring for outsiders. Or wolves watching Orion's pack.

Those were some to watch out for.

"Orion," The smallest of the hooded figures regarded her, their voice coarse sandpaper grating over the wooden interior. "You've arrived."

"Indeed I have." She sauntered towards her desk, combat boots coming to rest on the cluttered table as she regarded her contemporaries. "To what do I owe the pleasure of such esteemed council memebers?"

The tallest, clawed nails ghosting over Orion's book shelf and scouring the wide array of literature collected from different packs, laughed. "You always did have a good sense of humor."

"We've come to talk to you about your... inquiries into the current locations of Lucy's brother, Detrix, and the rest of his pack as well as Madukes relocation of funds." The third said, voice understated and faint. "We've discovered some interesting information."

Hand stretched out, Orion fully expect a thick file filled with asinine reports that were crazed conspiracy theories at best, so to have a folded piece of paper placed in her open palm was rather surprising. Clearing off a large enough space on her desk and attempting to keep her stacks of paperwork together, she unfolded the sheet. Fingers pulling at the crisp edges to reveal a map of the werewolves conjoined territories. It was normal, inconspicuous, save for a plethora of red markings with what appeared to be dates that littered the page.

After a moment of speculation, the fun, sarcastic pack leader disappeared, her stance rigid. Right now, she was Orion, caretaker of the fallen and rejected, deadly with a mind far sharper than her claws.

"This is..."

"Yes." The quiet one whispered. "In our searches across the lands we've found that many of the smaller packs have disappeared. Without a trace. Often a few groups at a time."

Eyes scouring the map, Orion was struck by the sheer number of marks on the page. One even touching the outskirts of her own territory, where a small clan of twelve that she'd allowed to take brief refuge on her land suddenly swept into the passing winds after sending notice of their intent to migrate.

She felt something she hadn't felt in centuries boil in the pit of her gut, something dark and insidious; fear. It screamed at her senses, the numerous pale scars raised atop her chocolate skin burning with an influx of emotions.

"How." She croaked. "How in the hell has no one noticed so many were gone. Right under our noses. This seems pretty fucking impossible."

"In our investigations we noted that some of the more well connected, smaller clans, mostly ones with people who would raise a fuss should they disappear, sent letters to their contemporaries stating they were planning to relocate." The tall one, book in hand and flipping through the pages, said mechanically.

"And what if that was all it was." Orion mentioned forcefully, hopefully and almost angrily. "People just moving."

She felt the incredulous stares directed at her and motioned impatiently for a reply.

"Well firstly, every packs disappearance, or "notices of relocation" as it were, fits into groups. The disappearances go back centuries, mostly after Muzakas disappearance and Madukes subsequent rise to power. Some of the unaligned and small clans went 'traveling' all around the same time and have not been heard from since." Closing the book, he turned to face Orion. "From there on every hundred years three groups would again 'travel', like clockwork really. It's only recently that within fifty year intervals two groups end up disappearing. The most current being the disappearance of Lucy's brother, Detrixs' clan five years ago."

Wracking her brain, Orion thought back to when Lucy and herself had received a damned letter from Detrix, reporting that he was actively trying to move his pack onwards into different lands, something about getting into it with some random unaligned folk. That was the last they had heard from him and his ilk, then nothing. There were no tracks, no sign of a fight, no nothing.

Almost as if they had never been there in the first place. Lucy was devastated, left assuming her brother had gone on the run or had been murdered, carcass unidentified and left to rot.

Only now...with this information and how perfectly it fell into place with all he other facts, she couldn't deny what was in front of her. No matter how much she wanted to.

"Holy shit." She breathed, voice shaky. "Someone's been kidnapping wolves."

"Yes." The one who had remained silent finally decided to speak. "This also ties into the relocation of what was supposed to be our money."

She nodded at the hooded figure, showing she was paying attention.

"It's no secret Maduke has been cutting the funding of many packs for 'the good of the wolves as a whole'. But as we investigated further into his activities we found that none of the money was going into his pack or towards his personal pocket book. In fact it seemed to have disappeared entirely."

Maduke. Maduke was a part of this madness.

Rage, unbridled, coursed through Orion. She wanted to tear his face off, kill his smug warriors and burn his accursed castle to the ground. But, she had to remind herself, Maduke and his warriors were far stronger than her and held even more political power than Orion ever could.

In this situation all she could do was gather information. Which is what she did.

"So if the money isn't being used for personal gain or for his own pack then where is it going?"

"Assumably to whoever has the kidnapped wolves, but their tracks are so well covered that we can't indicate as to who and cannot actively dig further without alerting the other seven council members, Maduke included."

"I see." She muttered, sizeable headache building behind her eyes from stress. "Well then is that all you've gathered?"

"Yes" The smallest nodded. "We will continue to watch and listen, but in the face of these atrocities we have to look out for our own Orion. We've raised suspicion enough just by gathering what we have. Who is to say our packs won't join those that were abducted. As such, I'm regret to inform you that this will be the last time we meet under these circumstances."

Orion felt as if she had just been slapped, face burning and a high pitched ringing in her ears.

"What. The. Hell."

"Any further digging into this, or attempts to act against Maduke, could result in our packs suffering." Orion wasn't sure who was talking any more, the room blurring as her heart beat thundered. "Surely you must understand, we must look out for our own."

"Leave." She hissed through gritted teeth. "Now."

"Or-"

"If you want to be cowards and hide behind some false sense of comfort for something that, guess what, ISNT GOING AWAY, then fine!" She screamed. "But you can do that bullshit outside of my territory!"

"How dare y-"

"Leave." Turning around to stare out the window she let her power flare, allowing it to be as blistering and malicious as it wanted. "Or I will make you."

Within seconds she was once again alone in her office, acutely aware of how much she wanted to raze everything to the ground. The only thing to accompany her racing thoughts being a map that spoke of absolute horror, of her own failure, and the sinking realization that her world was changing for the worse and there was nothing she could do about it.

She seriously needed a drink right about now.

oooOOOooo

It was one of those nights where the household was empty, rendering its many halls silent and vacant. Times like these were rare, where M-21 was left to his thoughts. Seira, Regis and Rai were at one of the children's house for a sleepover, something M-21 was tasked with explaining what that entailed and what humans did at such an event.

It was probably for the best that M-21 got to them before Frankenstein, because he would probably have prepared a novel, complete with cited references and pictures. Not that he himself had ever had a sleepover, mind you, but he had been extensively trained on things 'normal humans' did in the hope that it would make him more efficient at blending in. And didn't have to write a whole book to explain the basics.

Hm... He certainly hoped he did well enough. Humans liked to beat each other up at sleepovers right?

M-21 frowned and scratched his head, on second thought maybe he should have let Frankenstein do what he did best; making overly detailed dissertations for clueless nobles. Shrugging, he brushed off that line of thought.

Frankenstein was off on business, school related or otherwise, he wasnt sure, and Takeo and Tao were off somewhere patrolling the city. Which led him to kneeling on the ground, filling a backpack with some comfortable clothing and toiletries for the trip with Muzaka.

His room was neat and bare of any personality, as was a habit he'd had hammered into him as a Union agent. One that was difficult to break. He'd at least been convinced by Tao, or manhandled really, to add some pictures of his pack, his favorite being the small frame on his bedside table.

Walking towards his bed, bare feet padding across the carpet, M-21 loosely grasped the picture. His fingers tentative and cautious, afraid to break the treasured object. Behind the protective cover of glass and a delicate metal frame, he saw a group of people, some grinning, others frowning and a few blank stares, but regardless, all happy. Content.

M-21 vividly remembered when this had been shot, near a year ago, Tao scaring some random passerbyer to get them to take a photo of everyone together. The houseowners, the nobles and the enhanced humans stood with that silly group of accident prone children, so protective and fond of all of them. They were a family, even then.

Recalling the moment, how reluctant he had been to even step in front of a camera, he smiled. He was so uncomfortable, always keeping back up plans close in case things went south and the people who took him in revealed themselves as Union lackeys in disguise.

As time progressed, almost imperceptibly, M-21 eventually loosened his death grip on said plans, allowed himself to spend time with his housemates and most of all, allowed himself the chance to be apart of this family. Of this pack.

Placing it in his backpack, M-21 zipped it up and dropped it by his bed so he wouldn't forget it tomorrow when morning arrived. No sooner than his hand leaving the bag, he sensed a energy flaring, rapidly approaching the house.

It was warm and vast, a breeze that reserved the power to tear through whatever stood in its path but chose not to. It was a wonderfully familiar feeling, one that belonged to a loud, outspoken wolf with a heart that was equally as dazzling as the rest of him.

Not that he'd ever tell him that though.

Within moments Muzaka appeared, leaping through the open window with speed and grace. Hair wild, he ran his hands through what M-21 sarcastically deemed his mane. It didn't do much to settle the long, silver, windblown mess but he seemed to be pleased with what he'd accomplished.

"You do realize that you could've just gone through the door." M-21 deadpanned, unbuttoning the top of his suit. "But I guess that's a little too modern for you."

Muzaka headed towards the end of the bed and plopped down. "I think doors are more of a choice than a necessity."

"Apparently."

"Man you kinda sound like Frankenstein. That guy always gets on my case about going through windows."

M-21 glared at Muzaka, who after a moment, got the point.

"Sorry, sorry." He held his hands up in a show of asking for forgiveness. "I mean you are amazing and awesome. That better?"

"Hn."

"I'll take that as a yes." Muzaka fell back, lounging on the mattress to get more comfortable as M-21 changed out of his work attire. "Are you ready for our trip tommorow? I'm pretty excited to have you meet Orion, she's an old friend of mine. I think you guys would get along pretty well."

"I'm as ready as I can be." He wadded up his clothes and dispensed them into the laundry basket. "What's she like? I've heard you talk about her a few times."

Muzaka moved to allow M-21 space to climb onto the bed, lying beside him as he tried to get comfortable beneath the covers until he eventually joined him. "Well uh, I knew her since she was a kit, she was unruly as all hell and thought she was queen of everything."

"So like you."

"Hah!" Muzaka laughed. "The difference there is I actually am the king. Of things."

"Things..."

"Yeah things." Grinning he ruffled his hands through M-21's hair, earning him another glare. "Anyways, she grew up pretty fast. Her mother was the leader of a pack that was pretty small at the time. She was intent on having Orion succeed her and as such was very harsh, which wasn't an unordinary way to raise children in the past."

Muzaka seemed lost in thought as he pulled M-21 into his embrace. "At some point, when she finally took over as a leader, her pack and another, a larger one, merged. That's when she met Lucy, her wife. They grew close and bonded in secret, as Orion was supposed to be bonded instead to the leader of the other clan. The important thing here though, is that throughout their lives, they saw many people killed or exiled. Many of which were for being different."

"Different?"

"Yes. Different. Whether they had special abilities or for being born a certain way. It was the unfortunate reality of the time, being in a society that wanted its members to fit a specific mold." He gave M-21 a sad, soft smile. "Lucy was eventually discovered to not only be assisting those that were exiled, but was also outed as a wolf without a reproductive system, something that some packs would kill over."

"What the actual fuck." M-21 muttered. "How was that... legal?"

"It was more tribelike at the time M', there weren't certain rules that governed the majority. When Lucy was outed Orion was given two options; kill Lucy or sentence her to a life of exile. Orion being the type of person she was, and this was when I met her actually, gave everything up to save her wife, deciding to run away with her so they could build their own pack. Which ultimately they did, with some help from my pack and our allies."

"She sounds like," M-21 paused to think for a moment. "A fighter."

"Yup. That about sums her up." Muzaka brought his hand to lay on M-21's hip, just above the waistline of his boxers. "Enough about that though, how are you doing?"

"Mm' fine." M-21 nuzzled closer, head resting in the crook of Muzakas neck. "I had work today, but since it's only Saturday and the only classes they have going on are disciplinary ones it was slow."

Muzakas hand crawled upwards, palm meaningfully searching skin, over barely notable scars that told more a tale than any words could. The sensation, the intimacy of it, made him shiver. Warmth, comfort and acceptance meshed into attraction and lust, it was dizzying how much it swept him away.

As aroused as he was, it took him some time to give any outward indication of his own arousal, eventually though he gave in. A soft gasp caught by Muzakas sharp hearing paving the way for his advances.

Moving away so he could see M-21's face, he had to reign in his own overwhelming instinct to take him right then and there. Lips parted and face flushed, M-21 looked so desirable, so cute and unexpecting.

"If your gonna start then don't stop." Taking the initiative, M-21 brought their lips together. A kiss that was open mouthed, sloppy and passionate altogether. Why was it so sexy when Muzaka moved his tongue like that to meet his, inquisitive hands exploring the muscled expanse of his toned chest.

Surprising him with the sudden movement, Muzaka rolled both of them over, M-21s world tilting to find himself forcibly straddling the older man and having to grasp at his shoulders to keep himself from tipping over. The sight beneath him was exquisite, a shirtless Muzaka worrying at the skin of his lower lip taking in the picture M-21 made.

Hands running along his skin, Muzaka looked positively predatory as his eyes scoured the body above him, appearing quite satisfied with the change in position. Especially considering the bulge he felt growing beneath him.

"Fuck." M-21 groaned, shifting his hips in the process. "Hurry up."

Hooking his fingers, claws thankfully retracted(he wanted to keep his clothes intact thank you very much), Muzaka pulled down his boxers. It was gradual, sensual. The domineering werewolf lord wanted to give what he considered an exquisitely wrapped gift the attention it deserved. Plus, it did some really great things to his erection when M-21 would jerk his hips, desperate to get off.

Finally divesting M-21 of his boxers he thoroughly appreciated the now exposed hard-on that twitched in need for any sort of friction. Not for the first time tonight, he sincerely regretted not bringing a camera to capture the moment of his partner whining on top of him, rosy blush present from top to bottom.

"Hey M'"

"What?"

"Can we do something a little different?" He grinned as M-21 muttered something about him needing to hurry up. "I promise you'll like it."

"Okay... what is it?"

"I want to see you jerk off on top of me." The shit eating grin that was still present on his face grew even more smug.

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose of having you here? I mean, I'm not opposed to it I guess. I just don't understand."

"Trust me, it's different."

Brows furrowed, M-21 looked at how eager Muzaka seemed at the prospect of masturbating while on his lap. Looking into his stupid face complete with a stupid smile, he felt an urge to please. To give in and try something different.

Plus...he figured if it didn't work for him he could always just tell Muzaka and they'd do something else that he was more comfortable with.

"What the hell, I'll do it."

"Thank you M'" Muzaka captured his lips in a searing kiss before leaning back down.

M-21 stared down at his cock, then at Muzaka. Eyes on him, he took his erection in hand and began stroking. It was sluggish at first, slow and squeezing pumps sending tingles running down his spine. As he took in how pleased the man beneath him looked, he could practically imagine what Muzaka would if it were his hand rather than his own.

When Muzaka began rocking against M-21, his own clothed cock rubbing against his ass, he suspected he knew why the werewolf lord was so intent on this. It was thrilling, performing and knowing that he was desired. It was a powerful aphrodisiac that had him bucking his hips into his fist.

"Holy shit." Muzaka growled, panting. "I fucking want you so bad M'."

"Then take me." He laughed, expression sly and challenging. "Unless you don't think you can."

One minute M-21 was on top and in the next their positions were switched, too fast for him to react. Muzaka was positively feral, eyes dark, breath fast, pants thrown off and cock out. Oh god did the sight do funny things to his stomach.

Without warning Muzaka brought his fingers to M-21's lips, all his focus dedicated to watching as he completed his silent command to suck. Deeming his fingers appropriately lubed, Muzaka brought his hand to M-21's asshole, fingers tracing the puckered rim.

With deliberate care he worked a single digit in, spreading and searching. Then two as the fingers found his prostate and had him crying at the juxtaposition of pain and the visceral pleasure of having that spot hit. After that M-21 stopped counting how many fingers were present, minutes that felt like an eternity of being prepped, but delightfully pleasant all the same. Especially when the soreness ebbed.

Again and again those fingers pushed, prodded. Faster and deeper with every thrust. M-21 spread his legs, opening himself so that Muzaka could better get his sweet spot , toes curled and hands grasping the sheets.

"Do you want me to fuck you M'?" Leaning in close, Muzaka whispered in M-21's ear. "I want you to tell me exactly how bad you want it."

Arms around Muzakas neck, M-21 pulled him equally as close. With a wicked smile he licked the curve of his ear, causing the older wolf to shiver in surprise. Then, seeing as he was near enough, wrapped his legs around Muzakas waist to rub his leaking cock against his own.

"That's how badly I want you." He hissed. "Please. Fuck. Me."

Not needing any more persuasion he lined his penis up with M-21's ass and pushed in, nearly screaming as his shaft was taken straight to the base. Again and again, he thrusted. Every whimper devoured by hungry kisses, guttural groans and the slap of skin against skin.

Ankles locked, M-21 pushed himself further onto Muzaka. As the pace sped and the bed rocked against the wall, M-21 found he could no longer keep silent. That he really didn't care if he was loud or not, his moans bleeding through the little space left between them.

"I'm gonna cum Muzaka," He cried, head thrown back.

The pace quickened, becoming more ragged as M-21 shouted and that special spot inside him was struck, pure ecstasy ran rampant through his boiling blood and veins. It was hot and oh so tempting. As M-21 came, Muzaka thrust in a few more times until he reached his own completion with a roar.

In the afterglow, they held one another, fully immersed in the simple fact of having someone there. That neither really were alone in that moment. Isolation was a skill they'd both perfected, now...well now they were learning how to be with another person.

Cutting them out of their reverie, the wooden legs of the bed cracked. A loud, almost offensive sound that struck through their intimate moment. Just as they locked eyes, the bed frame slammed down onto the floor, breaking beneath them as it folded under their joined weight.

Unable to gather their thoughts they held one another, disbelief obvious.

"D-did we just break my bed?"

"Um, looks like it."

"Wait. What are we going to tell Frankenstein?"

"...Fuck."

oooOOOooo 


	7. We will not fail

Dawn ebbed forth and pushed pass the waning twilight, soft plumes of orange and blue bleeding into the sky above as the city beneath began cracking its eyes to yet another hopeful day. Frankenstein himself had just returned home following an eventful business expedition, receiving a cheeky report from Tao that M-21 and Muzaka had departed the day prior, leaving well wishes and promises of bringing back souvenirs.

Frankenstein usually operated on little sleep, his self inflicted modifications resulting in a body that was relatively low maintenance. It worked out well considering how many projects he juggled at any given period in time; If he wasn't handling school affairs and some other buisness ventures than he was either training or in his lab.

Or with Master.

It was convenient in most situations, especially prior to his residence in Lukedonia where he was on the run from people who endeavored to eliminate him and take complete credit for his painstaking, controversial work. Requiring a steady amount of rest when everyone was actively trying to kill you wasn't efficient whatsoever. Thank god he was a light sleeper, even when he desperately needed it, waking up many a time to someone attempting to murder him in his sleep.

Ever since his master had returned, his sole reason for being and the guiding hand that graciously rescued him from eternal damnation, Frankenstein had been getting even less sleep than the few minutes he could convince himself to sneak in here and there. Any time not working or training was spent watching over master, reassuring himself that the man was safe and sound.

Cherishing the soft curve of his face, with features most had ascertained were expressionless and void, Frankenstein had become accustomed to reading it all like a book he never tired of. Raizel was quite literally his everything and those horrendous years wandering alone, with no one to ground him, made him exceedingly paranoid.

He was always a fearful man, but healthily so. Now it seemed, especially with Raizels failing health, that he was a mere battle away from having him disappear again, enternal sleep whisking Master away into the passing winds and rendering him a distant, bittersweet memory. That he'd finally come to one day and realize this second chance with Rai was only a dream and hed be left again with nothing.

So trapped in his fear of losing the only person who intentionally slipped through his iron clad defenses, Frankenstein was unaware that, while he wasn't paying attention, his world grew. Incrementally though the process may have been, Raizel wasnt the only thing he was beginning to fear losing.

Somewhere along the way, the children he'd taken in had come to feel like his own. Frankenstein never wanted kids, never saw the practicality of it when all the poor being would be was a liability. But as he begrudgingly opened his doors and heart to these emotionally stunted nobles and enhanced humans, watching over them as they grew as people, he felt...parental.

Both Raizel and himself viewed the kids as their own, as a family.

So to have M-21, an isolated child that stuck like super glue to those he actually allowed himself to form bonds with, taking off with Muzaka for a trip that would span weeks, Frankensteins equilibrium was thrown. Drastically.

One of his children had matured and started on their own independent journey, and though he knew it was an overreaction on his part, he was worried. What if M-21, who hoped to find acceptance, discovered nothing but prejudice for his half human status. Or worse, what if he was put in danger. Too far away for Frankenstein to rescue him.

The thought had his stomach rolling with anxiety, a feeling that he had long learned to listen to. Nerves kept a man alive, alert and most importantly; safe.

Pouring tea for Master, gloved hands grasping the polished porcelain with a practiced grip, Frankenstein noticed Raizel staring at him. Ruby red eyes filled with concern.

The bond between them flared like the touch of the summer sun on a lazy afternoon, encompassing and considerate. He felt understanding there, and a comforting embrace that transcended the limitations of the physical realm.

Raizel knew how M-21's absence affected him, how Frankenstein worried for his safety. There was no judgement there, only love.

"Forgive me Master." Frankenstein said as he added a sufficient amount of sugar to the amber liquid. "I didn't mean to concern you."

Again those eyes spoke volumes, assuring him that Raizel wasn't bothered by his feelings.

Frankenstein paced over to his masters side, placing the cup down on an awaiting coaster. "I am...not used to these emotions, and I don't like him being so far away from us should things turn south. He's fully capable of taking care of himself, but still, I worry."

Not expecting Raizel to respond, he was surprised by the cautious touch of a hand against his own. Long fingers joining with his in an effort to assuage his fear.

Frankenstein smiled at the sight of his master, steaming tea in one hand and his own in the other, attentive gaze reminding him that no matter what, everything would turn out alright. All they could do was wait and pray for the best.

That, if nothing, they could be certain in Muzakas will to protect M-21.

"Thank you for dealing with your fool of a servant, Master."

For a while they stayed like that, holding hands and reaching out through their bond. Both uncertain as to what lay ahead.

-ooOoo-

The land beneath their feet changed drastically as they traveled, from cement and gravel to even, lush grasslands and wide valleys. It was jarring how quickly everything morphed, as M-21 let Muzaka know, having become so accustomed to the monolithic towers that jutted into skies thick with smog, the constant roar of traffic on busy streets and sidewalks that stretched like a never ending series of mazes

It wasn't unpleasant, by any means, but it was unexpected. Especially when, without warning, Muzaka skidded to a stop, gesturing at M-21 to follow his example.

He'd been so preoccupied with his thoughts that after coming to a pause, M-21 once again became aware of his surroundings.

They stood on a beach that stretched miles long, finely ground sand being lifted with the incoming breeze. His jaw dropped somewhat as the air, salty and humid, brushed against his skin and the sparkling ocean in front of him rolled lazily. It was a beautiful sight.

"Wow." M-21 breathily exclaimed. "This is…."

"Pretty awesome, huh?!" Muzaka grinned, seemingly pleased with his reaction. "This is where Lucy asked us to wait for her, but I didn't expect it would be here."

"It's nice."

"Nice coming from you is practically a glowing reccomendation."

"Hah, you're so clever." M-21 remarked dryly, crossing his arms to admire the view. "Where are we?"

Muzaka ignored him for a moment, taking the time to step out of his shoes. Satisfied, he turned to his partner who was still giving him a questioning look.

"Well this used to be more land than water when I was last here, but this was where I first met Orion. It neutral territory at the time, we used it for negotiations and trade with some of the other packs up until he councils creation."

M-21 watched as Muzaka paced around, deliberate in his steps to enjoy the sensations nature offered him. How long had it been since the Lord of the wolves truly experienced the land he'd once ruled over rather than a bustling metropolis or sectioned off grasslands. Probably a while.

On the plus side, Muzaka was enjoying himself. He reminded M-21 of an excited little kid, there was always something new to experience if you looked and Muzaka himself never stopped searching. Never stopped appreciating the flourishing life around him.

He was a glass half full sort of person.

"Hey M'," Muzaka called from his spot at the waterline, ankles enveloped by a sluggish rush of sea water. "Have you ever been in the ocean before?"

He shook his head, wary at the sudden question.

Muzakas brows rose in disbelief as he turned to face M-21, not entirely surprised but shocked nonetheless. He knew M-21 had been limited in certain life experiences, unable to have the upbringing a proper wolf should have, but he would've thought he'd at least been to the beach before.

Wolves loved water.

"Well, have you ever been swimming?"

Again, he shook his head. "When I was training it was something I was required to learn, just in case it was necessary for a mission, but I never got a chance to actually try it outside the labs."

Hand beneath his chin, Muzaka noted M-21 surveying the ocean. With certain things the man was a blank slate, robbed of fulfilling experiences in the name of experimentation and left to flounder when living outside of that mold. In one aspect, it was charming. That he knew so little of the world.

Muzaka wanted to correct that, fill his new life with all the things M-21 should have had in the first place. If he could, he would just bottle up happiness and present it to him with a smile.

But since he couldn't exactly do that, getting him into the ocean would be a great place to start.

"You wanna take a swim?"

M-21 blinked, not expecting the question. "Uh…. no thanks. I'm good."

It's not that he didn't want to get in, in fact the water looked more and more enticing every minute they stood waiting around. But he had never actually been in the ocean, or even a pool outside of the confines of a laboratory. It was untouched territory, embarrassingly new and completely out of his comfort zone.

M-21 would leave the frolicking in the water to Muzaka.

Thankfully Muzaka didn't push him, instead excitedly throwing off his shirt and tossing it towards him. His gut did a small flip as the werewolf lord stretched out, eyes mapping his torso, drinking in the scars that rested across the planes of his firm stomach and coming to rest on his equally marked chest.

M-21 had seen him shirtless before, hell they had slept together. So it wasn't as if he was a prude, embarrassed by the barest hint of skin. But looking at Muzaka he had to appreciate his body. It was deliciously ripped and spoke of the pure power present beneath his skin, how, with just a strike of the fist he could demolish anything that stood in his way.

And how, when those hands were on his hips in the midst of passion, the idea they could break him at any moment was thrilling.

"Hey, my eyes are up here." Muzaka laughed as M-21's face colored at being caught staring.

"Whatever, it's not like there's anything to look at anyways."

"That's not what your face says."

M-21 rolled his eyes, but couldn't keep from smiling. At least until Muzaka threw off his jeans, carefree and enjoying the liberating freedom from pants. Of course he wasn't wearing any underwear.

How very Muzaka.

"Can you at least keep your damn pants on?" He deadpanned, completely exasperated by his antics.

Already wadding into the ocean, goosebumps forming on his skin as the chilled water licked at his legs, Muzaka chuckled. Whether it was at M-21's expense or because he legitimately found the question funny, he didn't know.

"I'm not going to get my clothes wet." He stated like it was obvious. "Maybe you like wet clothes, but I don't. Especially when we're running at high speeds. I'd rather not get frostbite thank you."

Already to his hips, lower body completely submerged in what M-21 assumed was the Atlantic, Muzaka trudged further into the surf. There was palpable joy present in his demeanor, face brighter than the suns reflection against the waves and equally as dazzling.

Far enough out that the waves were larger, Muzaka dove beneath an oncoming crest, popping out the other side with a whoop of delight. He turned to where M-21 was, showing off with pride and received a thumbs up for his troubles.

"M'!" He yelled after a few minutes of dodging waves and occasionally getting smacked around. "I found something weird!"

"Weird how?" He shouted back.

"I dunno, it looks like a f-" There was a sudden splash as something violently dragged Muzaka beneath the water and M-21 jumped up in alarm. It appeared that whatever had a hold of him was fighting hard for its grip, Muzaka occasionally resurfacing only to go under in a flurry of white wash.

Without thought, M-21 darted into the water with his shoes flying and a curse fresh on his lips. He fought his way through the current and managed to dive under a series of swells, limbs ringing with shock from the freezing water.

His movements were jerky, unused to the waves pushing him back every time he managed to move forward. But soon, M-21 found his rhythm, adrenaline keeping him going.

The waters quieted as he searched for Muzaka, the man no longer struggling against some unseen force. M-21 panicked as he spun rapidly, heart racing.

"MUZAKA!" He screamed, throat hoarse from the salt.

Not seeing him anywhere, M-21 knew that he must be beneath him. But where? He couldn't feel the mans presence and the upturned sand formed a thick cloud that was near impossible to see through. But damnit he had to try!

Inhaling a huge gulp of air that had his lungs burning, he-

Strong arms wrapped around him in a fast, tight vice, and though M-21 couldn't see his assailant he still fought like hell. Tried to loosen the unbreakable hold around his middle.

"M! Calm down it's me!" Muzaka yelped, just in time for M-21 deliver a fierce head butt that pushed him back.

Heart still racing, M-21 put some distance between himself and the werewolf lord. Just enough to confirm that it was him and not some weird copycat. Because hey, stuff like that had happened before.

"What. The. Fuck." He hissed between breaths.

Muzaka, the busted bridge of his nose already healing itself, looked completely unapologetic.

"Got you in the water."

At first he felt anger, he was terrified for the man only seconds earlier. But now that he thought back on it, he probably should have seen that it was all a big, stupid ploy to get him to swim. The idea that anything could attack Muzaka and actually manage to subdue him was laughable.

And if he were being honest, now that his body wasn't on high alert the water felt wonderfully refreshing. The subtle push and pull soothing his previous fear around being in the ocean, enjoying the sensation of floating too much to be scared. Or angry.

He was still irritated though.

"Asshole." He groaned, pointedly ignoring Muzaka shit faced grin to splash him with water.

"Oh, you're in for it now."

Ocean spray flew back and forth between the two as they tried to score a direct hit, laughter filling the air around them and the world simplifying for a moment. It was the sort of fun that reminded M-21 of his pack.

As their play fighting died down, M-21 could feel someone coming near, a rugged energy. Turning to Muzaka, he confirmed that someone was arriving.

"Ah that'd be Lucy." Sparing M-21 a considering glance, contemplative and slow, Muzaka reached out to brush away a few strands of wet hair that were plastered to his forehead. The touch sending shivers down his spine.

"C'mon we should start swimming back now."

Their jaunt to shore proved easier than their travel out, less resistance and much quieter. Throughout, they shared coy smiles and teasing glances, and as they wadded out the ocean, M-21 sopping wet and Muzaka buck naked, they both found themselves at peace.

"Well you two look like you were having fun." Lucy remarked, arms crossed.

Peeling off the topmost layer of his soiled tux, the cloth begrudgingly pulling away from his body, M-21 grimaced and reached for his previously discarded backpack to pull out a pair of sweat pants and a shirt. Throwing them on, he turned to find Muzaka, now clothed, conversing with Lucy.

The woman made an intimidating picture, tall and imposing. Her eyes were a startling shade of blue, crinkles at their edges accentuating the perpetual frown present on her sharp face. With a shock of bright red curls and a faded green cloak around her broad shoulders, Lucy quite honestly intimidated the hell out of M-21.

"So this is your boy toy." She gave him a once over, neither approving nor disapproving. "Interesting."

M-21 met her harsh stare with a challenging glare of his own, squaring his shoulders and daring her to say something. Intimidated he may be, but he'd faced off with far scarier people, remaining sarcastic and antagonistic in spite of his foes no matter what. He'd be damned if he would be forced into any sort of submission.

Oho," She drawled, expression frozen but tinged with the barest trace of amusement. "I see the kit has claws."

Turning on her heel, heavy boots crunching the sand beneath them, Lucy gave Muzaka a hearty slap on the back and made a motion for them to follow her. Thankfully Muzaka was now clothed and M-21 was in something drier.

"Orion is interested in meeting you."

-oO0Oo-

Madukes sanctioned territory was, amongst the current council, the largest in both scale and influence, of which included small fiefdoms that were stationed away from the mainland. Their community was one of peace, cities that worked together with the environment around them, a place where the wonders of technology and werewolves met. Education, healthcare and commerce having millennia upon millennia to improve and perfect, considering their longevity.

Currently in one of the isolated territories situated away from Madukes stronghold, the Unions fifth elder sat in a booth on the lands seediest, most run down establishment; Barry's diner. Hood up, she tapped at the table in impatience, observing the poorly lit and rancid smelling room.

Wolves, exhausted from long workdays, were perched at the fully stocked bar pounding back shot after shot, many of which were a unsettlingly vibrant hue. A cloud of smoke hung low in the flickering din, the overwhelming scent of herbs, tobacco and a variety of other chemicals burning Lunarks nose as it wrinkled in distaste.

This was one of the poorer estates and more notably, was where crime and a lucrative drug trade flourished. While she detested places like these with a passion it was the ideal place if you didn't want to be... overheard.

The door, rotted wood nearly falling off the hinges, slammed open. Heavy footfalls giving way to another figure enrobed in a stark white cloak, one that hid a man both large in size and prescence. Though the denizens of Barry's were far too nodded out to notice the new occupant.

"Finally." Lunark said as her partner headed towards the booth. "I was wondering when you were going to show up."

Kentas let out a noncommittal grunt as he sat, scowling at the room around him.

"You have a little blood on your face by the way."

"There was a fight on the way here and I was challenged." He spoke plainly, wiping at his cheek with the pad of his thumb. "Prideful fools thought they could take me down."

Lunark flashed him a wolffish smile. "You only got into one fight? The whole way here? I find that hard to believe."

"...It was more like four fights. The people here are very insistent but entirely unimpressive. They weren't even able to transform."

"Did you expect anything different?"

"No." Settling into his seat, Kentas sighed. "I was hoping though."

Lunark snorted at her counterparts disappointment, the poor boy was practically pouting. Though his reaction was understandable, considering Kentas grew up within the confines of Madukes capitol where the majority were of warrior class rather than civilians. He was raised around the powerful, so being beyond their boundaries where active combatants were the minority was foreign to him.

Lunark on the other hand was far more worldly, and she prided herself on that fact. In the name of learning how to duel within the political arena, being taught fists could only get you so far, she had been exposed to the comparable frailty of those around them.

Werewolves as a whole were the most powerful species alive, most assuredly. But when placed against those with the prowess of her and her warrior brethren, the common masses fell short in strength.

It was their duty to protect those people, the ones who couldn't fight like she did. To maintain the werewolf way of life and promote peace.

That was a truth she held dear to her heart.

From the folds of her clothes Lunark pulled out a plain looking folder, languidly sliding it across the table. Hood obscuring his expression, it was telling how Kentas's whole demeanor changed as he opened the file, he had only heard shadowy rumors of their assignment. She felt his curiosity and related to the eagerness to see if those whispers held any merit.

Minutes passed and with it, a deepening scowl cut across his lips. She knew why, having read the details of their mission earlier and having the exact same reaction. The idea of what was purposed belied the very staunch principles they, as warriors, made their world. A code of honor that delegated every aspect of their lives.

To use such underhanded tactics to carry out a mission was disgraceful.

Or would be if the order hadn't come from Lord Maduke himself.

"I... do not understand." Kentas finally gritted out, throwing down the folder like it had physically burned him. "They want us... us... to what?!"

"Calm down." She barked. "I understand your frustration. Believe me, I do. But this assignment was given to us by the ruling Lord and we do not question his wishes."

That seemed to mollify Kentas enough to the point that she could be confident he was listening. He had a bad tendency to get distracted by his anger whenever frustrated and while she empathized, it made situations like this a bit more tricky to navigate with minimal damage to the surrounding property.

"It's simple enough. We're being sent in under the guise of assisting Orion's pack to confirm whether or not she is indeed harboring a well known traitor as well as a coconspirator of his."

Kentas nodded, hands balled into agitated fists.

"Since Orion has ties to the Lords opposers, we must conduct this investigation in as discreet a manner as possible. If we swoop in and cause problems it would alert their faction and give them concrete reason to retaliate. We do not want a complete political upset."

"The traitors should be happy we're not just eliminating them."

Sighing, Lunark half considered ordering a drink of her own. While Kentas's devotion and single minded fervor towards the warrior way was what made him such a deadly fighter, his narrow-minded understanding as to how their society ran could be aggravating at times. They weren't looking to start a civil war.

"Should our suspicions prove true we have orders to act accordingly and detain them during the festival, where the two would be far enough away from Orions protection we could maneuver without consequence. We can't give our Lords opposers reason to riot. Our primary goal, however, is Muzaka. We need him."

Leaning close, Lunark bore her teeth, fangs flashing in a snarl that was infamous for stopping heartened soldiers in their tracks. The success of this mission was paramount, not only in fulfilling their Lords will, but in a way Kentas and many others could not see.

There was a divide in the council, regardless of whether anyone wanted to admit it or not. Animosity that had culminated over the passing centuries coming to a viscous, reactionary boil. Capturing Muzaka and, through whatever means necessary, getting him to openly support Maduke would be an quick key to easing tensions. Or at least to quiet and discredit the dissenters.

But should they get caught, should they fail, it would prove to be the catalyst that split their council and shoved their kind back into the days of war. Days where death and famine reigned and society crumbled.

Lunark would not let that happen, not while she still drew breath.

"We. Will. Not. Fail."

-oO0Oo- 


	8. Good intentions

If anyone were to question what running a sizable, diverse pack complete with equally varied opinions was like, Orion would tell them it was a lot of hard desicions that led to even more sleepless nights tossing and turning in a cold sweat. The greatest pillow was a clean conscience and she didn't have that at all. Sure she tried her best, but ones' best wasn't always enough and there were handfuls of people to remind her of that. To scream with hatred, carve into her already battered skin, that the many sacrifices she'd made to maintain the ideal Lucy and herself felt as strongly as the beating hearts in their chests was in vain.

Pointless.

One person in particular being an older fellow, an ex-convict that had sought refuge behind their lines by the name of Damien. He was a die hard traditionalist who abhorred her packs progressing advances in therapeutic programs, recoiled at the continuing immigration of wolves with 'abnormal' abilities and attributes. Despite his distaste for their laws however, he still remained a prolific information broker trapped by the bridges he'd burned and the the amount of kill orders to his name.

Damiens skills, his damning knowledge, were invaluable to their cause. Which is why on days like today when his personality grew beyond his lacking filters, she didn't knock his teeth out. Not even when he began his usual tirade during a private briefing.

Inhale and exhale, she instructed herself as his smarmy voice increased in volume. Beating the crap out of him for wasting her time would only give the man more ammunition for future meetings.

Orion was not a patient person by any means. She much preferred dealing with problems right away rather than letting them fester and eventually agitate her more. Damien had been an ironic lesson in letting her mind win over her horrible temper, he couldn't leave and she wouldn't let him. He was far too important an asset.

"Damien." She really tried to keep the bite out of her tone but the headache she was now sporting made it hard. "Get. To. The. Point."

Wrinkled face a mess of sores from nervous picking and an unkept mass of snowy white hair he refused to brush, Damien looked like a madman. He couldn't sit still for the life of him and his eyes darted around the room, scanning for threats.

An ingrained habit he wasn't ready to let go.

"Fine. You remember that request for some representatives of the larger packs we sent in?"

"Yes, it got denied."

"Exactly." He agreed furiously, throwing an opened envelope down onto her desk that he'd hidden somewhere in the many pockets of his purple tunic. "Read this."

Sometimes Orion wondered why people bothered communicating through writing anymore with the technology they'd had at their disposal for so long. But put pen to paper they did. Often. It was part of the job that came with being in charge.

As soon as she grabbed hold of the paper the nauseating scent of iron filled wafted out, its copper-like tinge almost overwhelming her gag reflex. Looking to Damien, he wasn't faring much better, turning a sickly shade of green.

The paper was an ancient variety, reserved explicitly for important communications between packs. True to its nature the flowing script was a dark red, and for the best of her Orion seriously hoped whoever had provided the 'ink' was still alive and kicking.

Using blood to transcribe notes was not uncommon in the distant past, supposedly intentioned to relay the urgency of a message traveling across boundaries. Which was a load of absolute horse shit. It was a way to intimidate, to prove one party was more fearsome than the other, willing to go to any lengths.

Subtext was a crucial thing.

Orion read the what was scrawled across that note, unable to keep her brows shooting upwards, wether in disbelief or agitation was anyone's guess. She didn't have the luxury of being patient and methodically taking apart the words. And it seemed unecesarry considering... how succinct it was.

 _'Dear Orion_

 _Our prior decree has been promptly rescinded and it has been decided that, after much careful consideration, that we will be sending aide. However, as it is a big process, we will begin a trial period by sending two of our people to take temporary residence in order to catalogue what needs to be done. Our men will be arriving promptly._

 _Best wishes,_

 _The council'_

"Damien," She spat like a curse, surprise abating and giving way to anger. "Has anyone else read this."

He shook his head with fervor, so forcefully that Orion briefly wondered if his neck would snap.

"Just me."

Rubbing her forehead, she grew quiet. This was sudden and, to the untrained observer, gracious of the dear council. But she had dealt with these people for hundreds upon hundreds of years, studying her predecessors and looking, scanning for any soft spot in their seemingly impenetrable armor. Orion knew them more than she would have preferred, intimate in the way only a snake in the garden could be.

Sometimes it seemed she was more familiar with them than herself, like a book she'd memorized from cover to cover and everything in between. She would call it a healthy hobby, one she'd developed to stand her own in a ring of wolves with a millenias of sheer experience more than her own measly centuries.

Yes, a habit. Though Lucy, with much discontent, would label it a toxic obsession. Needless to say it was the source of many arguments between the two.

Her habit however, gifted Orion with an overflowing well of knowledge on the councils actions and inactions. A small whisper at the very back of her mind, beneath the cobwebs of the past and lurking under those rotted floor boards, now shrieked at her. Fueled the bright flames of paranoia that burned holes in her lungs.

"They know."

It was a simple statement that permeated the room, robbing the words from their mouths and stealing the very floor beneath their feet. They knew. The council knew of their carefully secured secret and the importance of what it entailed.

"They know Muzaka is coming." She whispered, the breathy quiet scratching at her ears. "They are going to get involved and we can't say no. God damnit."

Damien for once was still, but fear emanated from him in waves. The intensity louder than any logical argument he could make.

"We need Muzaka, Damien."

"I know but...if they get involved and-and somehow kill him...then not only is our only trump card gone, but they would have legitimate claims for taking you out. Taking out everything we worked for. And not just that, but if they know then that means we have a rat. That needs to be dealt with before anything else."

In the considering silence, Orion knew Damien was right. From the rat to everything else.

Now that Madukes ilk we're aware of Muzakas arrival there were too many unknowns, dangerous variables. Their taking in of Muzaka, who Maduke had at least legally cemented as the traitor of werewolf kind, could start problems. Such being he would have 'legitimate' claims to organize one half of the council and extort the other to either dethrone or kill her. Or, it could be an explosive catalyst that started yet another bloody civil war against the split sides.

And we're that the case then it was more than likely they wouldn't win, even with Muzakas help.

But if, if, they were to do what was originally planned and use Muzaka to ally those of the council who still viewed him as their true leader, so many of the common people despite Madukes propaganda, then they could win. They could actually change things for the better.

They could do what Orion continued to fight so hard for.

"All this means," She viciously ripped the letter, determination ruling her actions. "Is that the stakes are higher. Makes things more exciting."

Damien couldn't keep the shock and disgust off his face even if he tried.

"We'll convince Muzaka to work with us, show him the atrocities our race has committed under Madukes rule and his responsibility in that, and then we will tear this corrupted foundation apart from its very base." Orion snarled. "We need Muzaka. If we let this opportunity slip through our fingers then who knows when something like this could come along again."

"You can't be serious Orion!" He shouted. "The cost is too much, its not worth it. No matter what you say and you know this. Use your head not your damn heart. You get stupid when you do that."

Orion stared at him, unfazed by his show of emotions. Did she know this was stupid, yes. Did she care, doubly yes. But as she thought about it, she thought about Lucy. The small trembling girl in her arms crying as she realized everyone she cared about despised her for something she couldn't change. Or how she wanted to make a world where people could be accepted, or at the very least not turned into a science experiment.

"If this works Damien, you could see your family again. You wouldn't have to hide here. Tell me that's not worth it."

He recoiled as if burned, hurt evident in his figure. With another scowl he shook his head at her, grappling for words to thrust right back at her. To stab her like she had just done him.

But there was none, so with silence in his wake, Damien left. Making sure to slam Orion's door.

She knew it was a low blow and what she had done churned her gut, but at the same time, she knew the ends justified the means.

That it had to be.

-oo0oo-

Lucy was a woman of few words, the scope of which were limited to bitingly sarcastic remarks. Falling in place behind the two, Muzaka striding alongside Lucy while regaling tales of the human world, M-21 found he couldn't keep the annoyance off his face. That woman rubbed him the wrong way for whatever reason, like polished nails on a chalk board.

He supposed that though he may not exactly like her or her seeming holier than thou attitude, M-21 could try to be civil. Try being the relative word.

There were tons of people he wanted to punch in the face that he refrained from doing so. This wasn't that different.

It was unexpected that they calmly walked rather then ran to their destination, somehow he had built up this expectation that all werewolves wanted to be insanely powerful at all times and deemed simple things like just walking around and not running at high speeds too mundane. Or that wolves just generally had more energy to expend.

That's what being in the company of Muzaka had taught him at least. Sure, the man could sit still when he wanted too, but the werewolf lord was easily enticed to running around and exploring. Preferring not to stay stationary in the majority of situations.

Muzaka laughed heartily, snapping M-21 out of his quiet contemplation. That's when he noticed their changing destination; at first it was a sparse culmination of cottages and houses, dotted over meadows and farmland and situated beneath a pearly blue sky. From there, roads formed, some admittedly more worn than others.

As the time ticked by and the sun sluggishly sunk into the horizon line, filing the sky with a blazing orange fire that bled out into harsh purples, more houses seemed to appear in closer range to one another. He saw that the many neighborhoods, a suburban sprawl with shops haphazardly thrown in the mix, was chock full of people. Wolves, his senses told him.

It reminded him exactly of human towns, mirrored almost. Save that the majority of houses were reinforced with ludicrous amounts metal, painted bright colors that clashed with one another in an endearing way. But all in all, the striking similarities served to reassure him.

M-21 had no clue what he was supposed to expect, he'd truly thought it would've been huts and tents that celebrated the ancient ways of life. This was as far from that as anything could get, hell they even had cars.

They halted at what appeared to be a community building, winding sidewalks cutting through perfectly trimmed lawns and ornate fountains leading up to a metal mass that reached a good three stories, doused in a culmination of varying oranges. People filtered in and out of the large front doors, crowds of young teens amassing along the grass. As they found their way up the steps, he studied the lettering above the doorway, a strange language he couldn't decipher.

"What does that mean?" M-21 pointed upwards. "I can't read it."

Muzaka paused mid sentence in his exaggerated exchange with Lucy, attention drawn to the alien lettering. "You can't read that?"

"...no."

A strange frown rippled across his features almost to quick to catch, silver brows furrowing in confusion before understanding bubbled to the surface. Lucy however continued to stare at M-21 in what could be described as purely condescending, even snorting with amusement at his lack of understanding.

Distantly, and perhaps a little bit spitefully, he wondered if the considerable effort in holding back her sarcastic comments was going to give the poor woman an aneurism with how hard she was trying not to say anything.

"Ah, you can't understand our written language."

M-21 was intrigued by the sudden revelation that what he was looking at wasn't just some inane scribbles but an actual language. Sure he was a tad annoyed at his illiteracy in this new mystery writing, but his interest ultimately outweighed his indignation.

"You guys...no you werewolves, have your own language?"

"Of course we do." Lucy stated, passing through the open doors and moving the two men along. "Did you just expect us to communicate through wolf grunts and pissing matches?"

He narrowed his eyes at her back and decided it best to stay silent.

"You can probably understand our speech most likely through your bond with Muzaka, either that or you have the ability to read minds."

"I don't."

"Then it's the bond." Lucy looked to Muzaka then back to him. "You two really are fascinating."

It was brief, but when their eyes met he couldn't suppress the shiver that coursed down his spine, the small hairs on the back of his neck involuntarily standing up. The way she considered him reminded M-21 of the cold, apathetic eyes of a curious scientist, entranced by the mysteries of a pristine new toy they could take apart piece by piece.

Before he'd even had the chance to register the context of what had transpired, they made a sharp left at the end of the grandiose hallway, the high pitched noise of arguing ringing throughout the corridor. It was coming from behind one of the more average looking doors towards the end of the hall.

"Looks like Orion has company." Lucy sighed more to Muzaka than anyone.

"Yup. Sounds about right."

Suddenly the door was ripped open from within, forcefully flung to where the hinges creaked in protest, a seething teenager with a scowl that could give Regis a run for his money stomping out. He reminded M-21 of some of the more angst ridden teens back at Ye Ran, black hair slicked back complete with dark eyeliner and an intricate tattoo of intertwining snakes adorning his pale neck.

Despite his appearing fragility the kid was shaking in barely contained rage, and when he spotted them it only seemed to worsen. A sharp call from behind him however had his small face morphing into a mask of indifference.

"Barnabas, leave. My word is final."

"Understood." He bit out, bowing awkwardly before leaving, his voice a coarse hiss that didn't suit his child like body.

From within sat a woman behind a cluttered desk, reclining in her seat and facing away from the door. He couldn't see her face but the bared shoulders he make out were broad, powerful. That chocolate skin was heavily marked with scars, pale pink lines that ran rampant.

Passively, M-21 wondered how exactly she had gotten so battered.

"Orion." Lucy spoke with an odd fondness in her voice. "I've brought our guests."

The chair swiveled without any hurry, slowly revealing the shocking figure that was Orion famed by the afternoon afternoon glow leaking through the large window. She was tall, predatory, like a hungry tiger on its haunches. Her face was stern, and morbidly, M-21 took note that the carnage spilled across her flesh wasn't limited to just her shoulders.

The right side of her face, partially hidden by thick curls, was mauled by faded burns that ran down her cheek, still viscous looking. A scar much like his own ran through her full lips, dripping down her chin and falling into the high neckline of her tank top. But what drew him most was her eyes.

They were a rich brown and seemed filled with life. Though her expression was cold, he could see the warmth and humor that failed to disappear no matter how much she scowled.

"Holy shit! Orion!" Muzaka exclaimed with excitement, pushing past M-21 and Lucy to pull the woman into a bear crushing hug. "You're seriously alive!"

M-21 felt sympathy for Orion, he had been the subject of many the mans hugs and it tended to hurt like hell. He had next to no clue how to not put his abundant strength into everything he did. Considering the wince on her face, M-21 knew that not even she was safe from his affection.

"Did you think I was dead or something?"

Setting her down, Muzaka shot her a toothy grin. "Well I didn't know if someone else had taken over and was trying to imitate you. Cuz they did a shit job."

"Shut up idiot." She socked him. "Your ruining the perfectly good moment."

"He tends to do that."

The smile on Orion's face didn't disappear at M-21's voice, in fact as she boldly strode toward him and gathered him up in a hug, it was the opposite. She seemed genuinely happy to see him.

Even if she was crushing his ribs with this embrace.

"You must be M-21, I'm Orion. Nice to meet you."

"Thank you." He breathed out once she released him. "It is... nice to meet you as well."

"That lady over there is Lucy and this is one of my many, beautiful offices."

M-21 took his time surveying the cramped space, surprised at its upkeep or lack thereof. What is it Tao had once said? Tore up from the floor up? That pretty much described this room to a tee.

Its walls were lined with bookcases that seemed as if someone had just haphazardly shoved things in them then forgot they were there, claiming the majority of the already small room. Knick knacks, some more strange then others, filled the rest of it. Walls littered with faded posters and strange ornaments lying about and practically absorbing the desk.

Frankenstein would've had a kaniption if he were here.

"It looks like shit."

Orion blinked before roaring with laughter, Muzaka joining her. Jesus, M-21 winced, she was even louder than Muzaka.

"Ohhhhh." She wiped comically at her eyes, her boisterous laugh dying to a wolf like chortle. "I like you. I like you a lot. I can already tell we're gonna be great friends."

"Thanks?"

"Lucy, why don't you take these two to their cabin. I'm sure they could use the rest before introducing them to our humble pack. Plus I have some other guests I need to meet."

Lucy shot her a nod and gestured for the two to follow as she left the office, Muzaka giving his friend an enthusiastic wave as Orion shut the door behind them. M-21 felt strangely comfortable at their interaction with the pack leader, she was certainly a character but then again so was he.

The tiled floors clicked beneath their feet, some straggling people chattering away in the spacious hall and filling the place with life. By his side, M-21 felt Muzaka, a strong presence that served to keep him grounded even in this new situation. There weren't any words or touches exchanged, only silence as they followed the red headed wolf.

A quick, soft smile crossed his lips. Faint and fleeting.

He was unsure as to what laid ahead, what fates would unravel and stories would be told. But as long as he had Muzaka there...he figured it would be okay. They would be okay.

He had to watch out for Muzaka after all didn't he? Watch his back like he had watched his.

Yeah, he could do that.


End file.
